Off the Rack
by Crystal2222
Summary: When Abby helps Connor update his wardrobe, they find themselves questioning the nature of their friendship and whether or not they're ready to be more than friends.
1. Chapter 1

**Off the Rack**

Spoilers: Seasons 1, 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval or anything associated with it.

Connor sat on a stool at the ARC, soldering a couple of wires together. He was working on a remote-controlled camera that he could fly through anomalies that were too high to drive through. It was one of his more brilliant ideas, if he did say so himself. However no one else seemed to have any faith that he could accomplish this task, which greatly annoyed Connor. Seriously how hard could it be to jerry-rig a toy helicopter with all the cameras and other things he needed?

Apparently, harder than he thought.—

As he bent closer to the wires, tongue pushed between his teeth, he vaguely noticed a strange smell that he'd never smelled before when he'd soldered. Acrid and sharp, kind of like something was burning, something non-metallic.

A cloud of white CO2 blasted across him, making Connor sputter and drop his tools, ruining his morning's work. He jumped off the stool, coughing and blinking as the CO2 continued to blow over him. "What the hell?"

It finally stopped. As the clouds faded away, Connor found himself staring at Cutter, who was breathing hard and glaring at him.

"Next time," said Cutter, waving the nozzle of the fire extinguisher in Connor's direction, "try not to set your clothes on fire."

"What?" Connor looked down, but he didn't see anything wrong. His scarf was still in one piece, his waistcoat didn't have a mark on it, and his brand new shirt was still pristine yellow.

"Your sleeve, Connor, your sleeve."

That's when Connor noticed his left arm. His sleeve was completely charred, the yellow material now mostly black. The cuff was gone and the rest of it looked close to disintegrating. "Oh my God." He pulled the material away from his skin before he remembered you weren't supposed to do that with burns in case the material had fused to your skin. But luckily it came away easily, so he pushed the sleeve up and out of the way. Then he tore off his fingerless glove, but it seemed to have just been charred a bit.

"What happened? What did you do?" Abby rushed to Connor's side, dropping off a stack of papers she'd been carrying when she entered the room.

"He set himself on fire." Cutter tucked the fire extinguisher back into his case along the wall before joining Abby.

"Not on purpose." Connor felt faint as he looked at his forearm. The skin was red and swelling, and a few blisters had started to form. "Wow, that really hurts. A lot."

"Oh Connor," said Abby, patting him on the back. "I think you need to go to hospital."

"Yeah," said Cutter, sighing. "Lester will love this. Another accident at the ARC."

"Sorry," said Connor, though it was hard to concentrate on anything other than how much his skin burned. It felt like it was still on fire.

"Don't worry about it," said Cutter. "I'll take care of Lester. You go get patched up. Be prepared for a safety lecture, though."

"Okay, thanks." Connor nodded absently. "Great, safety lecture. But you do you think I could get some ice first? My arm is going to burst into flames."

"Go on, get out of here." Cutter waved them out of the room.

Abby led Connor to the break room, got him set up with a bag of ice, which she wrapped inside a towel so it wouldn't be too cold, and drove him to the hospital. Once there, the doctor examined him and decided it was a second-degree burn, but just a superficial one, so they sent him home with antibiotic cream and instructions to take over-the-counter pain relievers as needed.

"I guess this shirt is ruined," said Connor when they got home. "Or maybe I can just wear it with the sleeves rolled up. You wouldn't see the burn marks hardly at all then."

Abby gave him her patented are-you-nuts look and put the kettle on for tea. "Connor, seriously, how much did you spend on that shirt?"

He got himself a glass of water and popped a couple of pain relievers. "Two pounds," he said proudly.

"It's a rag now, Connor. Throw it out. You got your money's worth already."

"But it was brand new at the thrift store. That's why it was such a bargain. Still in the wrapper and everything."

Abby sighed as Connor plopped down on the couch and gingerly rested his bandaged arm on a pillow.

When the tea was ready, she carried two mugs into the living room. "How's your arm feel?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Better." He glanced at the white bandage. "Whatever ointment they put on it really dulled the pain. And they said I shouldn't get a scar either."

"That's good. Next time, roll up your sleeves, yeah? Or wear short sleeves. I don't fancy taking you to the hospital."

Abby sounded so serious that Connor looked over at her. She was tucked into the end of the couch, knees drawn up and staring at him over the top of her mug, brows drawn together in concern.

"You were worried about me, weren't you?" he asked, halfway teasing and halfway serious.

"Of course I was," she said, totally serious, which made Connor feel as warm inside as the tea in his mug.

Then she nudged his leg with her foot, trying to hide a smile. "I still need this month's rent from you."

They grinned at each other and sipped their tea.

The next day, Connor got a long lecture from Lester, and to his dismay, he was put in charge of next month's safety talk since he had first-hand experience with fires in the ARC.

Stephen and Jenny took great pains to rib him all day long, not letting him near the microwave, the coffee maker, or anything that could remotely catch fire. When he claimed the fire hadn't been his fault, Jenny had exclaimed "liar, lair, pants on fire," which cracked them both up. At least Abby hadn't laughed at that one. And she'd even glared at them for being insensitive, which he really appreciated.

Cutter approached him at the end of the day while he was working on his helicopter, trying to figure out what he could salvage from the accident the day before.

"I think you've learned your lesson," Cutter said, leaning against the work table. He idly picked up a small motor and turned it over in his hands. "So I won't lecture you more. But I can't help wondering, why do you always have to learn the hard way?"

Connor shrugged. "I'm just trying to do a good job."

"I know you are." Cutter set the motor down. As he started to walk away, he turned and gave Connor a long look from head to toe.

"What?" asked Connor, glancing down at himself, almost afraid he'd somehow caught fire again without knowing it.

"Nothing," said Cutter, shaking his head. "No, maybe it's not nothing. I know we don't have a dress code here at the ARC. I mean, look at me." He gestured to his own attire of a plain grey t-shirt and jeans. "But maybe it wouldn't hurt for you to dress a little better."

"Better? What do you mean?"

"Less clothes for one. Most people wear one shirt, and you've got on . . . it looks like three. And do any of them fit you?"

Connor felt his face burn as he fiddled with his scarf. "It's me style is all."

"I know it is, and it's very, um, distinctive. But Connor, you're not a student anymore. You're a professional, and it might be a good idea to buy some nicer clothes. They don't have to be fancy or anything, just things that won't get caught on moving machinery or catch on fire."

"Okay," said Connor, not able to meet Cutter's eyes.

"Ask Abby," said Cutter, pushing away from the table. "I'm sure she can help."

Connor nodded and slumped on his stool. He'd felt so good about himself just the day before, with his brand new thrift-store bargain of a shirt that was a dress shirt and much nicer than any t-shirt Cutter liked to wear. So what if it was a little big on him. It was a button-down shirt.

And now he had to change how he dressed, all because of a stupid accident. Connor didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.


	2. Chapter 2

After dinner, Connor approached Abby. She was busy rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Technically it was his turn, but he couldn't do it with the bandage on his arm. Not only was there the risk of getting his burn wet and causing an infection, it was still pretty sore, especially when he moved it around too much.

Abby had teased him that he'd gotten burned on purpose just to get out of chores. She given him have two freebies where she'd do dishes for him just because he was hurt, but after that, he'd have to make them up to her later on. Connor had protested as he always did—it was their game—but he didn't mind doing his share later when he felt better. It was only fair, though he wouldn't admit it to her. It was too much fun pretending otherwise.

"Abby," said Connor, plucking at the edge of his bandage, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course. And since when do you ever ask if you have to ask me anything?" She smiled at him and wiped off the counter with a sponge. "There, all done. Want to make some tea?"

Connor put the kettle on and pulled out two mugs.

"Well are you going to ask me or should I guess?" she said when he kept quiet.

He wasn't sure how to begin, so he decided to just plunge right in. "What do you think about the way I dress?"

"The way you dress?" Abby frowned and dropped a tea bag in each mug. "What do you mean?"

"I have a certain style, don't you think? I don't dress like most other blokes my age, right?"

"Yeah, that's definitely true. You're kind of, um, Bohemian."

Connor digested that. He liked it. Bohemian. It sounded cool in a hippy-ish way. "Thanks. And I don't look nerdy or anything, do I?" He watched Abby out of the corner of his eyes as she tilted her head, thinking.

"No," she said, drawing out the word. "I wouldn't say you dress nerdy. Though I'm not sure what nerdy looks like. I guess I picture guys with pale skin, stained t-shirts, scraggly beards, and baggy jeans. Generally no concern for how they look at all. Other than pale skin, you're not really like that."

"I do have pale skin, don't I? Not much I can do about that, though." Connor nodded to himself, pleased with her answer. Maybe Cutter didn't know what he was talking about.

"So why all the questions about how you dress?"

"Cutter said I should dress differently, that I'm not a student anymore. He said I should look more professional."

Connor waited for her reaction, but Abby just nodded and said "mmm."

"Well, what do you think?" he pressed.

The tea kettle whistled before Abby could answer, so she poured water in their mugs and pulled out the milk and sugar. After they'd fixed their tea the way they liked it, they settled on the couch. Connor slumped low and rested his mug on his stomach. "I take it from your silence that you agree with him."

"Well, he does have a point, Connor. You get all your stuff second-hand when you can afford to buy it new."

He bristled. "Just don't see the point of spending a lot of money when you can get something just as good for almost nothing."

Abby laughed. "You sound so much like a student. Second-hand would be fine if you bought things that fit you proper, but you don't. And some of your jumpers are covered with pills."

"Pills?"

"Those little balls of thread that accumulate when you wear a jumper for a long time. Some people even shave them off."

"Really?" Connor had never heard of such a thing before. Imagine shaving your jumper. "I thought the pills made your jumpers cozy."

Abby shook her head and sipped her tea. "They just make them look old, Connor."

"So you agree with him then?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid I do."

Connor sunk even lower into the couch and let out a loud sigh. "I just don't want to change who I am and become boring or nerdy. I mean, it's one thing to be a nerd, it's another to advertise it, yeah?"

Abby chuckled. "Don't worry. No one knows you're a nerd until you open up your mouth-"

"Oi!"

"-and start talking about Star Wars!"

"Well, that's kind of true, I guess."

Abby stood up and reached out a hand to help Connor off the couch from where he was practically lying down on the edge of the cushion. "You can still keep your style. Let's just make it a little better, yeah?"

Connor let her pull him up and lead him to the stairs. "So you'll help me then?"

"Yeah, why not? It'll be fun to give you a make-over."

Connor followed her up to his loft. "Make-over! You're not going to dye my hair and put on make-up, are you? The way they do on TV?"

Abby just laughed, which wasn't reassuring at all.

-XXX-

Upstairs, Abby could barely contain her excitement. When Connor had asked about his clothes, she'd had to force her face to remain neutral. She'd wanted to fix Connor's wardrobe for ages, and this was finally her opportunity. She suspected that he could be quite handsome if he just made a few changes. He was like those girls on TV who had pretty faces but you couldn't see them because of their awful haircuts or big bushy eyebrows. She just had to be careful not to scare him before they got started or the whole thing might backfire on her.

Abby wanted to kiss Cutter for getting the ball rolling. Or maybe she should kiss Connor's giant baggy yellow shirt for catching on fire and making Cutter notice Connor's wardrobe.

"Okay," she said, eyeing Connor critically, "first things first. Where is your burned shirt?"

He pointed to a pile of clothes next to his bed. "But you told me to throw it out."

"I know. I just want to check something." Abby grabbed the shirt and read the label inside the collar. "Connor, this is an extra-large! What are you doing wearing something so big. You're probably a small or a medium."

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't think it mattered. Better to be too big than too small, yeah? Did I tell you how cheap it was and that it was brand new?"

Abby bit her lip and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't want to ruin the make-over before it got started. "A bargain isn't a bargain if it doesn't fit, Connor. It just makes you look sloppy. Or like a little kid wearing your dad's clothes."

"I thought big clothes made me look, you know, bigger."

"Bigger?"

Connor studied his bandage again, tracing the edge of it with his finger. "Yeah, less, well . . . skinny."

Abby suddenly understood. She knew why Connor wore all the big clothes, the layers upon layers of shirts, even when it was boiling hot outside. Connor was trying to bulk up. She remembered a group photo once of all five of them standing in front of picnic table, drinking Cokes after successfully chasing a creature back to its own time. They'd been congratulating each other and sharing a laugh about nothing in particular, just enjoying each other's company while they took a well-needed break.

Jenny had pulled out her phone and asked a woman who was walking by to take their picture. The woman readily agreed, taking her role as photographer a little too seriously. She arranged the five of them on the picnic table with the smaller people up front, the larger people in the back. Abby and Connor were instructed to sit on the bench, while Jenny, Cutter, and Stephen were to sit on the tabletop behind them.

Afterward, Connor got quiet and didn't even want to look at the picture. Abby printed it out and set it on her desk at work in a pretty frame. She treasured it and thought they all looked wonderful, even Connor with his fedora, silly scarf, and oversized jacket.

At the time, she hadn't understood why he wouldn't want to look at the picture. She was used to being small and didn't give it a second thought, but she could see how it would bother a guy.

"Connor," she said carefully, "you're not skinny."

He gave her a skeptical look. "Abby, me mum's been trying to fatten me up my whole life. It's not just because she loves me."

Abby searched for a way to make him feel good about himself while still giving him an honest appraisal of his appearance. "Okay, you're lean, I'll give you that. But you have muscle tone. You're not some skinny weakling. I've watched you when you wear your vest. You have nice shoulders and biceps."

Connor grew very still. Then he glanced up at her through his eyelashes. "You've watched me?"

Abby felt her face flush. "I m-mean noticed," she stammered. "I noticed you. It's hard not to you when you hang out all morning playing video games in your underwear, isn't it?"

"I guess not." He frowned for a moment before he face brightened. "I have muscle tone?"

Abby laughed. "You do." She put her hands on his shoulders and gripped them firmly. They were a bit on the bony side, but there was a surprising amount of definition to them. "You've been working out, haven't you?"

"A little bit, yeah," said Connor, his voice gruff. "Been lifting weights a couple times a week at the ARC."

"I can tell," murmured Abby. She ran her hands down his biceps and then across his chest so she could feel the muscles in his pecs. He was wiry, not skinny, and he actually felt solid and strong under her fingers. Abby let her hands wander down his sides, across his ribs to his slim waist. A lot of guys would kill for a waist like that, she thought absently.

"Abby," whispered Connor, after a moment. "Whatcha doing?"

Abby glanced up. Connor's face was right above hers. He was staring down at her, and he was breathing harder than he should. It was then that she noticed his strong jawline and the way the hint of whiskers on his face made him look kind of rugged. He smelled good too, she noticed, wondering when he'd started wearing cologne. "Huh?" she said stupidly.

When Connor reached down and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead, Abby started to close her eyes in anticipation of a kiss before she realized what she was doing. She jumped back, her heart pounding, cheeks ablaze.

"Right, sorry," she said, quickly folding the burned shirt as if it mattered whether or not it was folded properly.

Connor fell back on his bed. "S'okay, no problem. My clothes are too big. Check. Wouldn't want to hide my gorgeous body or anything, would we?"

Abby glanced up. He was grinning at her, his dimple etched deep in his cheek, and looking incredibly adorable.

"No, we wouldn't," said Abby, tossing the shirt back on the pile of dirty laundry. She grinned back at him. "Now let's get started."


	3. Chapter 3

Connor watched Abby sort his clothes into "stay" and "charity" piles with a single-mindedness he'd only seen her use at work. She tore through his closet and dresser, examining each article of clothing for suitability. If it was above a medium, it went in the "charity" pile. If it had a rip or a stain that she deemed too serious for Connor to repair or clean, it went in the "charity" pile.

So far, very few things had made it onto "stay" pile, much to Connor's dismay.

"Hold on," he said, as she threw his X-Men t-shirt onto the "charity" pile. "I love that shirt. I got it when me, Duncan, and Tom went to a con right before the movie premiered."

Abby had already turned back to his dresser. "But it's a large," she said over her shoulder.

Connor plucked it from the pile. "Some larges fit me. How do you know they're all too big, yeah?"

"Okay." Abby turned around, hands on hips. "Show me. Try it on."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now. Go on."

Connor started to pull it on over the other two shirts he was wearing, but Abby told him he had to try it on proper. So Connor unbuttoned his outer shirt and threw it on the bed, making sure to put it in the "stay" pile. As he started to pull his inner t-shirt over his head, he noticed Abby watching him, and for some reason that made him extremely self-conscious, especially after the way she'd been touching his body just a little while ago.

Plus they'd almost kissed, a fact that left him reeling if he thought about it for more than a moment, especially because she hadn't seemed opposed to kissing him—she'd even closed her eyes for a split second!—and kissing Abby was something he'd given up on long ago. Now he didn't want to mess up any future chances by showing her his real skinny body under his clothes.

"Turn around." He made a shooing motion with his hand. "I can't have you ogling me while I change."

"What?" Abby laughed. "I've seen you without a shirt before."

"That was before you told me how much you liked my body," he joked.

"I never said—" Abby rolled her eyes and turned her back to him. "Never mind, just put it on already. This is going to take all night. "

After Connor had changed, Abby swung around and looked him up and down. "You're swimming in it."

"Am not," said Connor. He started to tuck the bottom into his pants, but there was so much material that it became a struggle with his sore arm.

Abby slapped his hands away and turned him to face the mirror on the wall next to his closet. "The shoulder seams should be up here," she said, pulling the material up to where it belonged. "And look at all this." She grabbed the excess material at his side and held it out.

Connor had to admit that there was a lot of extra room in his shirt, so much, in fact, that Abby could crawl in there with him. He smiled at the image of them both snuggled up together inside his shirt.

"Ow," he said when Abby pinched his good elbow. "What was that for?"

"I know that look on your face, Connor Temple. You are not going to get a sewing machine and try to alter these shirts yourself."

"That wasn't what I was thinking." He rubbed his elbow. "But now that you mention it . . ."

When Abby glared at him, he jumped back and held up his hands. "I'm kidding. I'm kidding. But I'm still keeping this one for sentimental reasons. Tom loved X-Men."

"He did?" Abby looked stricken. "I'm sorry. I just kind of took over, didn't I?"

"That's okay. I asked you to, didn't I?"

"Well, after I sort everything out, you can go through and pick out stuff to keep, yeah? Just not too many things. And they're not to wear to work, just for hanging out around here or whatnot."

Connor didn't say that he'd planned on doing that anyway, so he just nodded. "Good, was starting to think I'd have to go to work in me robe."

Abby snorted. "I don't think that's what Cutter had in mind, is it?"

"No, but I'd do it just to see his face if I didn't think Lester would sack me."

They both laughed as Abby finished sorting all of his clothes. When she was finished, the "charity" pile covered most of the bed, while the "stay" pile covered one of his pillows. It consisted of two small and three medium shirts, plus three pairs of pants that Abby deemed acceptable, meaning they weren't worn or stained, even if they were second-hand. He wasn't allowed to keep any of his waistcoats, which really annoyed Connor because he loved his waistcoats. Apparently they were all too gigantic, according to Abby, and made him look like he was playing dress-up.

Connor was just glad she'd left his underwear drawer untouched.

"Doesn't leave me much, does it?" Connor picked up a plain rust-colored t-shirt and held it up. He didn't even remember getting this one and he wondered how old it was.

"No, you'll probably have to wear your old clothes until we have time to go shopping, but keep track of which pile you pull them out of, okay?"

"'Kay."

Abby stepped back and stared at the "stay" pile. "You know, you should try on the good stuff and make sure it really does fit you before we decide to keep it all."

Connor sighed and made a shooing motion with his hand. Abby rolled her eyes and complied, as Connor changed into the rust-colored shirt. Immediately, he could tell that it was tight. "What do ya think?" he asked, turning to look at himself in the mirror. It looked a little small to him, but he wasn't sure he could trust his own judgment.

Abby chewed on her bottom lip as she tugged on the shoulder seams. Then she smoothed the material across his ribs, pulling it down as far as it would go, which was barely over his belt. If he lifted his arms, his stomach would probably show. As Abby repeated the smoothing-out process all the way down his back, Connor felt a fluttering in his stomach, the same fluttering he'd felt when they'd almost kissed. It was a good feeling, kind of a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

And he realized the best and possibly only reason for him to fix his wardrobe. It wasn't because he'd caught on fire yesterday, and it wasn't because Cutter told him to look more professional. No, it was because Abby kept touching him. He'd gladly wear anything she asked if it meant she'd run her hands all over his body like she was doing tonight.

The only problem was that he wasn't allowed to run his hands over her body, and he highly doubted she'd want his advice on the proper fit of her t-shirts. It was kind of one-sided, but right now, he couldn't be too choosy.

"Connor," Abby said, snapping her fingers in his face. "Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" he asked. He almost whimpered when she removed her warm hands from his back.

"I said, I think this is too small. Try on something else. Your head's in the clouds. What're you thinking about?"

"Me arm is a little sore is all," he said, which wasn't entirely a lie. It did hurt, and he probably needed a pain reliever. "I've been moving it a lot tonight."

"Sorry," said Abby. She picked through the rest of the "stay" clothes and picked out a light blue shirt with a picture of a DNA helix on the front. "Just try on this medium and we'll call it a night. I think there's still some ice cream downstairs, if you want when we're done."

"Ice cream would be lovely." With that in mind, Connor pulled off his shirt and reached for the one Abby was holding. As he started to pull it on, he realized that he'd forgotten to tell her to turn around, and it was too late now unless he wanted to seem like a total loon.

Instead he tried to get dressed quickly, but the sleeve caught on his bandage. "Ow, ow, ow," he said, voice muffled from the shirt as it covered his head and his right shoulder. He tried to force his sore arm through again, but it seemed to be caught on something.

"Hold still." Abby disentangled the material and helped him slip his arm through. It involved a good deal more touching on her part, and Connor wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not when the shirt was finally settled into place. He watched her face to see if she'd been turned off by his sharp collar bone and the way his ribs stuck out when he breathed in too deeply. But she wasn't looking at him any differently than before. Maybe she hadn't been turned off by his bare torso. Maybe it wasn't as hideous as he thought.

"Well?" he asked, looking at himself in the mirror. This shirt, he was sure, fit perfectly. It wasn't too baggy or too short, and the shoulder seams landed right at the edge of his shoulders.

Abby touched the seams at his shoulder, and smoothed the material down his body. It felt heavenly.

"Now we know your size," she said, stepping back, "so all we have to do is go shopping."

"We?" asked Connor.

"Of course," said Abby, "unless you don't want me to come along. I know I have a lot of opinions on this stuff. But I promise not to force you to buy anything you don't want, yeah?"

Normally he didn't like people fussing over him like this, but he loved it when it came from a certain flat-mate he'd had a crush on since forever. "No, you have to come, Abby. I don't know where to shop or what to buy. Plus, I'd probably buy things that don't fit me at all and then I'd have to return everything, wouldn't I? I need your help. That is, if you don't mind helping me."

"I don't mind. It's kind of fun, isn't it? But it's tiring, and your arm is sore. So let's get our ice cream and relax and watch a show." She smiled and headed down the stairs.

As Connor followed her to the kitchen, he took a chance and gave her a quick one-armed hug, which she didn't seem to mind at all. "Thank you, Abby."

"You're welcome, Connor."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been pretty busy—standard excuse, I know! Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter, though. (And please write a review if you do.)**

-xxx-

For the next couple of days, Connor wore his old comfortable clothes, though he kept to a two-layer maximum of shirts, as per Abby's instructions. He felt a little exposed and under-dressed, but no one else seemed to notice anything different about his appearance, so he stopped thinking about it.

On Saturday, he woke to the sound of someone clapping right next to his head. He jerked and opened his eyes to see the harsh overhead light and a certain pixie-ish demon pounding her hands together like Connor had just performed some amazing feat in his sleep and she wanted to reward him. "What? What? For crying out loud, Abby, it's the weekend."

Abby ceased her horrible racket and gave him a stern look, though her lips seemed to be trying hard not to smile. "And the stores will be opening in an hour. There's no time for a lie in."

Connor groaned and pulled his comforter over his head. "It sounds like we've got all day then, doesn't it?"

Abby yanked the comforter back, letting in the chill morning air of the flat. "We might need all day. Plus there are a couple of sales I want to check out before all the good stuff is gone."

Connor gave her a withering glare, but she just turned on her heel and marched down the stairs. "Come on," she called over her shoulder. "It won't get any easier if you procrastinate."

"I've created a monster," he yelled back to her, but she just laughed.

With no choice but to do as she said, unless he didn't want her help which he did, Connor forced himself out of bed. After showering and changing the bandage on his burn, he got dressed in his size medium clothes and stumbled downstairs for a cup of tea and toast.

Abby was already on her second cup, the sales paper open in front of her. "I figure you need jeans, casual pants, some t-shirts, button down shirts, and maybe a nice suit."

"A suit?" Connor practically spat out his tea. He quickly dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "What do I need a suit for?"

"Weddings, funerals, taking a girl out on a nice date, that sort of thing." She ticked off each item with her fingers.

"Can't the suit wait until I have someplace to go first? Plus, I've got a couple of suits from me dad."

"You do?"

"Yeah, they're still at my mum's house. After he died, she said he'd want me to have them. I just haven't had any need for them yet."

"Do they fit?"

"I dunno." Connor pictured his dad, who had been slender like him but with a bit of a beer gut. Of course that was before his cancer had caused him to shrink to a fraction of his former self in the months before he'd died. Connor forced the sad images of his frail father out of his head. Instead he focused on one of his mum and dad at a cousin's wedding, looking quite dapper all dressed up in their nice clothes. "They might be a bit big on me. Hard to tell, though."

Abby gave him a warm look. "I think it's great you have your dad's suits. It'd be like taking him with you whenever you wear them, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Never thought of it that way before." His dad hadn't been much for wearing suits. They'd been just for special occasions, which somehow made them even more perfect for Connor who didn't like getting dressed up either.

"You should get them from your mum," suggested Abby. "That way you can have them tailored to fit you, and they'll be all set for whenever need them."

"Okay." Connor finished up a piece of his toast and chewed thoughtfully. An idea popped into his head and he voiced it before he had a chance to mull it over. "Maybe I can take you out somewhere special for helping me. I can wear one of my suits and you can wear something fancy too."

Abby smiled, and Connor swore he saw a spot of blush color her cheeks. "If you like. I don't get to dress up much either, do I? It would be nice for a change."

"And this way I'll have a reason to wear one of me suits. I can take a girl—which is you—out on a nice date. Just like you said." As soon as the word "date" was out of his mouth, Connor looked down at his plate.

He couldn't bear to see Abby's face as she tried to figure out the best way to remind him they were just buddies, pals, friends, etc. She'd use all those words he'd learn to hate over the years and explain again how they couldn't possibly go on a date together. He spread his toast crumbs into a pile with his fingertip and waited for her reaction.

But Abby didn't correct him. "You don't have to take me out to thank me, Connor. I like helping you."

Connor glanced up. Abby was sipping her tea, a pleased look on her face. Had he just made a date with Abby? He wasn't entirely sure, but he didn't want to ask and find out he was wrong, at least not yet.

"I like you helping me out too," said Connor, grinning. "Even if you are a bit bossy."

"Only because I have to be!" She glanced at the clock on the microwave and swallowed the rest of the tea. "Someone has to keep up you on schedule. Come on, we better get going. The stores open in a few minutes."

- - - x x x - - -

The first store they went to was a trendy urban-style clothing store that wasn't too far from home. When Connor walked in, he was struck by hard rock music and the abundance of stainless steel decorations. Shiny white mannequins without heads showed off all kinds of jeans and graphic tees, as well as bright plaid jackets and leather coats. It screamed trendy and reminded Connor of the cool kids in school who knocked his books down the stairs and stole his clothes out of the gym locker.

He swore he could feel spots breaking out on his face just from being there.

"Um, Abby," he said, as he followed her to the men's side of the store. "I don't know if this is me."

"You haven't even given it a chance, Connor." She sighed and grabbed his elbow as he lagged behind. "Come on. You have to try stuff on before you know for sure. Oh look, that rack is all twenty percent off."

Connor let her drag him to a round rack stuffed with all kinds of shirts. She started pawing through his size, occasionally pulling one out and shoving it into his arms, murmuring, "Yes, no, maybe, hmm that's interesting but not for you, like the color but it's an XL, weird."

One time Connor put something back she'd pulled—a pastel pink shirt with a cool picture of a skull on the front that reminded him of stomach medicine. Then he pulled out shirt she'd rejected, even though it had a fantastic picture on the front.

"Abby, why'd you put this shirt back. It has a TARDIS on the front. A TARDIS! Do you not remember watching Dr. Who this week? Don't tell me I need to explain how it works again—"

"Connor." Abby interrupted him with a finger to his lips. "I remember what a TARDIS is, okay? And believe me, that is not something I ever thought I'd be able to say in my entire life. But I thought you didn't want to look nerdy. This shirt screams nerdy. You have to trust me on this."

Connor chewed the inside of his lip as he weighed the pros and cons of the shirt. In the end, he decided to keep it in his pile because it was just too cool. "I don't have to wear it all the time, do I? Plus, I can put another shirt over it. Or a waistcoat. Hey, where are the waistcoats?"

The two of them glanced around the store.

"I don't see any," said Abby. "They probably don't carry them here. But don't worry. This is just the beginning. We have all day to go into lots of other stores. I'm sure we'll find some new waistcoats for you eventually."

Connor let out a loud groan. "This day is going to be torture, isn't it?"

Abby just laughed. "C'mon, let's see how those look."

Connor followed Abby to the changing area. He slipped into a curtained cubicle and tried on all of the shirts, making sure to show Abby each one. It was a tedious process that made the burn on his arm itch like mad with the way the material rubbed against his bandage each time he took a shirt on and off.

The almost best part, though, was the way Abby had to stare at him to see how his shirts looked. She even said he looked handsome when he put on a deep red knit shirt that was a little more form-fitting than he normally would've picked out. And the real best part was when she touched his shoulders a few times to check the shoulder seams. Connor started asking her what she thought because he'd learned that his questions usually meant Abby had to touch him in order to answer.

By the end of the day, he had eight new shirts, two pairs of jeans, three pairs of pants, two new waistcoats, a new scarf, and a new belt. He'd even found a leather coat that looked quirky and odd, exactly the kind of thing he liked to wear, except it was new and expensive.

"Let me treat for lunch, yeah?" said Abby. "You've spent a lot of money today already."

Connor shook his head. "But you are helping me out. You shouldn't spend money on me, I should spend it on you."

"Yeah, but you're already taking me out to a fancy dinner after you get your suits altered, remember?"

Connor grinned. "How could I forget taking a pretty girl out on a date, yeah?"

"About that, Connor," began Abby. She paused just outside the door of the Star and Moon Pub where they were going for lunch and placed her hand on his arm. "We're not really going on a date, you know. I mean, not like girlfriend and boyfriend or anything. It's just that you've mentioned it twice already and . . ."

Connor felt his heart shrivel up and turn to ice right inside his chest. He pulled his arm away. "Of course we're not boyfriend and girlfriend. That's silly. Never thought we were anything but pals. It was just an expression. I mean, we would never go on a date in a million, million years, would we?" Connor forced himself to shrug and smile. He couldn't meet Abby's eyes, though, and maybe that gave him away, but he didn't care.

"No, I guess not." She sounded sympathetic, and the last thing Connor wanted was sympathy, especially from Abby. He hated being the pathetic geek who had a hopeless crush on a beautiful girl. Hated it.

So he reached under his bandage and pressed a fingernail into a still-healing blister on his burn. The pain blocked out all the disappointment and heartache, not just from today but the accumulation of similar feelings over the past year. It was excruciating and perfect at the same time.

"C'mon," he said, opening the door and waving her inside. "I'm starving, and I want to eat before you change your mind about paying for lunch."

"Okay," said Abby after giving him a long look, "as long as you're okay with that."

"I'm fine," said Connor. "Just like always."


	5. Chapter 5

Abby wanted to kick herself. She'd just spent a lovely day shopping with Connor and then she'd gone and ruined it by reminding him that they weren't going on a date in the future when he got his suit altered. Knowing him, he never would bother about the suit, so the whole conversation needn't have happened.

But no, she'd had to speak up and make sure he knew they would never, ever go on a date. Connor'd tried to hide his disappointment, but she'd noticed the way his face had fallen as soon as the words left her mouth.

Now he was gulping down a pint at three in the afternoon when she'd never seen him drink this early in the day before.

"Shopping is tiring, isn't it?" he said, wiping a bit of foam off the corner of his mouth and giving her a too-bright smile.

"Yeah, but it's a good tired. You got a lot of nice things." Abby smiled in return and tried to act like things were just like always between them. The problem was, she wasn't sure what that meant. They spent all their free time together. They worked together. They lived together. They even flirted with each other in a way that felt safe and fun. She could talk to Connor about almost anything, and she thought he felt the same way.

He was cute, sweet, brave, and often quite funny. He should be perfect boyfriend material. Only … only what? Only he was a nerd? Not macho enough? Not enough like Stephan, as if that was a good comparison. Stephen had betrayed Cutter by sleeping with his wife! It was good Connor wasn't like Stephen, wasn't it? It was good he wasn't her usual type. Her other boyfriends had all turned out to be jerks or stuffed shirts or just plain wrong, which called into question her ability to judge guys.

The problem was, she hadn't felt that instant attraction with Connor like she had with the other guys. As much as she hated disappointing Connor, she couldn't pretend they were going on a date if she didn't feel that fluttery feeling in her gut when she thought about him If she wasn't attracted to him, then she wasn't attracted to him. It wasn't something you could force. And she didn't want to lead him on.

Still, he did have lovely brown eyes and a strong jaw and lips with an interesting shape that she'd never seen on another guy, kind of a fascinating shape, if she was honest. Plus his body was well fit, she had to admit, and she'd liked how he felt when she'd helped him try on clothes. Could she become attracted to someone after she'd already written him off as just her nerdy roommate?

Abby sighed. Why did he have to make things so difficult?

Connor gave her a funny look and opened his mouth as if to say something. Instead he reached for his beer, downed the last inch, and signaled to the waitress to bring him another.

"Two beers with lunch?" Abby quirked an eyebrow at him.

Connor shrugged and looked uncomfortable as he scratched under his bandage. "Is it too much money? I can cancel the order. Just felt like the need to relax after all the hard work of learning to be trendy and fashionable." He flashed his dimple at her.

"Fashionable?" Abby snorted. "No, of course it's not the money. I just . . . never mind. Enjoy it. Why not? I'm driving anyway."

Connor nodded and they lapsed into silence. The pub was mostly empty at that time in the afternoon, and Abby found herself glancing around, looking for something to talk about.

"Wonder if Cutter'll—" said Connor, at the same time Abby said, "This place is nice—"

They both laughed, and Abby felt some of the tension ease between them. "You go first," she told him.

"Oh, I just wondered if Cutter'll notice my new look, is all."

"He better! And if he doesn't, I'll make sure to compliment you nice and loud, yeah? He'll be sure to hear."

"Brilliant. And I'll be sure to tell him how much you helped. You can be my stylist, like on TV. You can pass out business cards: Abby Maitland, Stylist to the ARC." He imitated passing a business card to someone. "Why yes, I styled Connor Temple. Isn't he dashing? I can help you too, for a small fee, of course."

Abby looked at him with mock indignation. "Small fee! You're fired as my manager. I only style people for an enormous fee, fine jewels, or fancy dinners at swanky restaurants."

Connor took a long drink of beer and gave her a sly look. "I suppose take-away from Mooli's is out for my fee then?"

Abby gave him an exasperated look.

"The Noodle Company?"

She took a sip of her beer.

"The Big Egg?"

She quirked an eyebrow and then glanced at her watch. "You know what? I totally forgot that I had something to do today. Sorry, Connor, but we're going to have to skip lunch."

As she started to push her chair away, Connor reached out and grabbed her arm. "Very funny, Abby. Okay, how about Sketch?"

"Connor, don't be ridiculous. That's the most expensive restaurant in—" Abby gasped and turned his arm around so she could see the underside of his bandage. "You're bleeding."

"What?" He snatched his arm back and peered down. Abby could see red seeping across the white material, so she grabbed a couple of paper napkins from the empty table next to them. When she glanced back at Connor, he was holding his arm straight out as if it were leaking poison.

"Here, put this over it."

He tentatively draped a napkin over the red area, and it immediately started turning red too. "Ugh. I hate seeing my own blood." His face paled and he took a long gulp of beer.

"Oh, for crying out loud." Abby got up and came around to his side of the table. She crouched next to him and lifted the bandage to examine his wound. "It's not bad. You just scratched it too much. You have to be careful or it'll get infected, yeah?" She added another napkin and pressed gently. As she did, she patted the decidedly too-white Connor on the shoulder.

"I guess I forgot what I was doing. It itched, so I scratched. Sorry."

Abby checked the bandage again and the bleeding had mostly stopped. "Do you want to go home so we can change this properly?" She stroked the back of his hair, which was extremely soft and thick. Connor would have to lose a lot of hair before going bald, she thought absently. His extremely touchable hair another plus in the Connor-as-boyfriend column.

She shook her head. Since when had she been tallying up the pros and cons of dating Connor? Before she could examine that thought, Connor jerked his head back and pulled his arm away.

"I can do it now," he said brusquely. "Stop mothering me, all right?"

"Mothering? Is that what I'm doing? I thought I was helping a friend." Abby threw the napkins into his lap and stomped back to her own chair. "You're the one who looked like he was going to pass out from a little blood."

"I was not going to pass out!"

"Oh right. You know, sometimes you are such a baby about things."

"Am not." Connor worked his jaw back and forth. "Well you're the one who was touching me as if we were more than—" He clamped his mouth shut.

Abby crossed her arms and scowled at him. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms that she was not touching him as anything other than a friend, the waitress arrived with their food, a process that took forever.

The woman put down their plates and asked them if the food looked okay or did they need anything else? Some ice water? Ketchup? Mayonaise? Pickle spears? They both just shook their heads mutely at each request, and by the time the waitress walked away, the fight seemed to have left both of them.

Connor stared at his plate. His right hand was clamped around the napkins on his left forearm, and he didn't seem to want to let go. Abby picked up a fry and took a small bite, but she couldn't taste anything.

"You're my best friend in the whole world," she whispered. "Can't that be enough? I like being your friend. Can't you like being mine?" Abby felt the burning of unshed tears, so she kept her eyes open wide and stared down at her burger.

"Oh Abby." Connor paused and cleared his throat. "I never had a girl for a best friend before, especially one who doesn't like comics and scifi and all the fun stuff. But you're my best friend too." By the time he'd finished, his voice sounded a little rough with emotion.

Abby nodded and poked at her fries. She felt a tear roll down her face and plop onto her tomato slice. "I'd be more than a friend if I could. You know that right?"

"Yeah, I guess I do. Abby, are you crying?"

Abby shook her head, but another tear rolled down and fell onto a lettuce leaf.

Connor's chair scraped back. A moment later, she felt his arms go around her as he pulled her into a hug. "Sh, it's okay. I don't need anything more. I really, really like you as a friend. I was just kidding about you not liking the fun stuff. Someday I'll convert you to a geek, and then you'll perfect as well as being my best friend. Just like Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way."

Abby chuckled and brushed at her eyes. She didn't know why she was crying, other than she hated fighting with Connor, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing him from her life.

She slung and arm around his waist and gave him a brief squeeze. "Thanks, Connor. But just so you know. I will never, ever be converted."

He flashed his dimple at her and let go. As he sat back down in his chair, Abby noticed a bit of moisture in his eyes. A guy who can cry and didn't mind showing emotions, it was something else about Connor that was different from her usual type. Would that characteristic go in the plus or minus column? she wondered, a moment before she realized what she was doing.

Abby quickly took a bite of burger and forced that thought out of her head.

"So what DVD should we get tonight," asked Connor. "Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, Star Trek, The Ring, The Mummy, Day of the Living Dead, . . ."

As he continued to rattle off every single genre movie that had been made in the last twenty years, Abby just laughed and kept eating. He really was cute, she thought, especially when he was being so totally nerdy and ridiculous, with his smile all dazzling and dimply, and his eyes sparkling, his light coating of whiskers that made him look a bit roguish.

But they were friends, and it was okay to think your best friend was cute, wasn't it. She liked things the way they were.

Didn't she?


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I have to say that this story is not going where I had planned for it to go at all. My original idea was just to have vignettes of Connor's changing fashion over the seasons. This is more of a cohesive story, and hopefully people are still enjoying it.**

**Please don't forget to review it if you like it (or even if you don't because I like hearing all sides).**

-XXX-

On Monday came the big unveiling. Connor woke up after hitting the snooze alarm just twice instead of the usual five or six times, that often ended with Abby shouting at him to just get up already. Today he wanted to make sure he looked good for work. Not that he didn't always want to look good—theoretically, anyway—he just usually didn't make much of an effort.

He showered, shaved, and put on a fresh bandage over his burn. Then he tackled his hair. After they'd gotten home from shopping on Saturday and had several beers each, Abby had turned to him and said, "You need a haircut."

"I do?" Connor was slightly buzzed, so it took him a second to switch from watching poor Shaun being chased by zombies on the TV to what Abby had said.

"Yes." She nodded over emphatically. "In all the make-over shows I've seen, a stylist cuts and colors the person's hair. I bet you'd look good with some blond highlights."

Connor put the movie on pause, silencing the zombie grunts. "Highlights? What're those?"

"They're streaks of color in your hair to give it more, I don't know, zip or something. It makes you look like you were out in the sun and it bleached your hair a little."

Connor touched the top of his head. "Isn't that a girl thing?"

Abby took a long drink of beer, her eyebrows scrunched together as she considered the question. "It is, but it doesn't have to be. I bet movie stars do it."

She was clearly more tipsy than he was, which made sense because she'd matched him beer for beer and just didn't have the body weight to keep up with him. "I don't think I want highlights, Abby. I like my hair dark. It's how it's always been. It's me, isn't it?"

"Okay, but you still need a haircut."

"Why?"

"Because you do. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. A new haircut will complete your look, yeah?"

And somehow, Abby had convinced him to sit on a kitchen chair with a towel draped over his shoulders while she wet his hair down from a spray bottle. It probably wasn't the best decision to let her have scissors after all the beer they'd both consumed, but Connor thought it might be the last time Abby would be running her fingers through his hair. So he'd shut up and let her clip away, trying not to cringe when he saw dark brown chunks hit the floor.

It actually hadn't turned out too bad. It was shorter than before, but not too short as he'd been afraid of. The only problem was, now that he was facing himself in the mirror getting ready for work, he didn't know how to style it. He couldn't tuck it behind his ears anymore, and he knew it would be in his eyes all day if he just left it alone. So he gooped it with gel and combed it to the side, hoping it looked okay.

With his hair taken care of, he opened the closet and looked over his new clothes. Since Abby had liked the tight red shirt, he chose that one and slipped it on. A pair of tan trousers followed, along with socks, shoes, and a new belt. Connor looked at himself critically in the mirror. He felt naked without all of his usual layers, and extremely thin and bony, so he pulled out a new pin-striped vest with fake pocket watch and added that to his ensemble. Fingerless gloves and a fedora completed the outfit.

Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all. If he were a girl, he might even say he was attractive. Of course, it really didn't matter what he thought, just what a certain flatmate thought.

Or rather, it used to matter what she thought, he reminded himself. Now he knew in no uncertain terms that she would never, ever find him attractive. They would just be friends forever and ever. Well, her loss, he told himself firmly, ignoring the ache deep in his chest that told him otherwise.

With a firm set to his shoulders, Connor clomped down the stairs to face said flatmate.

Abby stood in the kitchen, humming to herself and buttering a scone as music blared from the Ipod dock.

"Ta da," he announced, striking a pose with his arms out wide.

She didn't hear him.

"Ahem," he practically shouted. "Abby, what do ya think?"

Abby glanced up. Her look of annoyance quickly changed to a one of happy surprise. She turned down the music and circled around him. "Connor, you look really, really good, even if I do say so myself."

"You don't think my clothes are too tight?" He tugged at the side of his vest to show how there was no extra room.

She emphatically shook her head. "That's how clothes are supposed to fit. You look great. I bet all the girls at work will be falling all over themselves to talk to you now."

Connor forced himself to smile as if that was the best news he'd heard in weeks. Did she have to be so happy about other girls liking him? "You think?" he forced out.

"I do. Now, hurry up and eat breakfast. We need to get going."

As he ate his cereal, Abby snuck up on him with a pair of scissors and clipped off a tiny piece of hair that was falling across his right eyebrow.

"What're ya doing?" he asked, blinking at her.

"Just noticed something out of place," she explained while putting the scissors back into a kitchen drawer. "And now you're perfect."

-XXX—

At work no one paid any attention to him until he ran into Jenny. Literally ran into her. She was carrying a coffee and he was reading his notes.

"Whoa, look out," she said. Jumping back so the coffee splashed harmlessly between them.

"Oh my God," said Connor, glancing at his new clothes. "I'm at work for less than five minutes and I almost ruin me new outfit."

As Jenny shook coffee off her fingers, Connor set down his pad of paper and grabbed some napkins from the break room around the corner.

"New outfit?" she asked as he mopped up the floor.

"Yep, what do you think? Abby took me shopping over the weekend." He tossed the damp napkins into a bin and posed for her. "Cut me hair, too."

"Abby did all that?"

"Yep."

"Hold still then." She slowly walked around him, sipping her coffee. Her face remained inscrutable as she looked him up and down.

"Take off your hat."

He did so, and she peered at his hair.

"Well?" he asked, fidgeting with the chain in his vest.

"Connor, you look gorgeous. Abby did a great job."

"She did, didn't she? Of course, I did all the trying on and paying for things. Plus, I picked out my own clothes this morning." He frowned because that last part made him sound about five. "What I mean is, I put the whole thing together."

Jenny laughed. "I know what you mean. Anyway, you look good. It's nice to see you in new clothes, and the new haircut suits you."

"Thank you very much."

They said good-bye, and Connor went back to work, occasionally glancing around to see if anyone was looking at him, particular any of the girls Abby said would be falling at his feet. So far, he got about as much notice as usual, which was to say, none at all.

So when he went to the staff meeting later in the morning, he didn't expect anything other than a boring meeting.

"Connor," exclaimed Stephen from where he slouched in a chair against the wall. "New duds, mate?"

"Yep, Abby took me shopping." He started to sit in a chair against the wall like Stephan, who probably always sat in the back of the class at school like the cool kids, but it felt unnatural not to be at the table the way you're supposed to be, so he switched gears and took his usual seat. It seemed he just wasn't meant to be cool.

When Abby entered, Stephen turned to her. "So you're to blame for making Connor look good for once."

"Oi," exclaimed Connor.

Abby laughed. "I am, but I think he always looked good. We just got him some new clothes and a haircut is all." She flashed Connor a smile.

Connor smiled back and gave Stephen a smug look. "See? Abby says I always looked good."

Stephen just rolled his eyes. "Yes, you're very attractive."

Cutter and Jenny entered the room and sat at the table. "Who's attractive?" asked Cutter, glancing around absent-mindedly.

"Connor," said Abby, proudly. "I gave him a make-over."

"You did a great job," said Jenny. "I told him earlier how good he looked."

A smiled played at the corner of Cutter's mouth. "I see you took my advice, Connor. Well, stand up, let's see what you did." He motioned for Connor to rise.

Connor stood, even though he knew they were having sport at his expense. He turned in a circle and smirked at them. "Maybe I should look into a new job as a supermodel."

As everyone laughed, Lester breezed into the room. "All right let's get started. Connor, what are you doing? Sit down, you look like a ballerina on a music box."

Connor plopped into his seat and pulled his hat low on his head. He was glad everyone liked his new look, but it was a relief to be out of the spotlight.

-XXX—

Shortly after the meeting, there was a report of odd wild boars trampling a farmer's potato field in Surrey. The team piled into two cars, along with an escort of military personnel, and drove out to site of the incursion.

The so-called wild boars turned out to be lystrosaurs, an early ancestor of wild pigs from the Permian era. They were pig-sized and somewhat cute in a gross, smelly way. Connor wasn't surprised when Abby immediately fell in love with them as they wandered around, rooting up potatoes and having a grand old feast.

"Look at them," she cooed. "They adorable."

"They're pretty harmless," Connor agreed.

He was reading about them from his computer, which he cradled in his arms. The team was gathered near the edge of the crops, watching about five lystrosaurs. The anomaly glittered off in the middle of the field, some distance away. It was a gorgeous sunny day with a cool breeze, making Connor feel like he was getting paid to have a bit of a holiday.

"Pigs haven't evolved all that much from these guys," he told everyone, "so we could almost just keep them here on a farm or something."

"Unless someone decides to have their DNA tested," said Cutter dryly.

"We could just kill them and butcher them," said one of the soldiers who was hanging out near them.

"Yeah, I could fancy a bacon sandwich," said another.

Abby glared at them and muttered something under her breath.

Cutter turned enough so his back was to the soldiers. "We're not butchering them, for crying out loud. Connor, how do we get them through the anomaly?"

"Don't know," said Connor. "Temp them with food?"

"I say we just whack them with a stick." Stephen picked up a likely candidate from the brush near the edge of the field and gave it an experimental thump into his hand.

"Stephen, be careful," said Abby. "Don't hurt them."

Stephen cautiously approached the closest lystrosaur and hit it on the rump. The animal squealed and took off running—in the wrong direction and straight toward the dirt track they'd just driven down.

"Well, that worked out well," said Connor.

Stephen shot him a dirty look. A couple of soldiers ran over and managed to stop the lystrosaur by throwing a couple of potatoes in its path that it couldn't resist munching on.

In the end, it turned out one of the soldiers had grown up on a farm and knew how to route pigs. Supposedly, if you put two planks on either side of a pig's head, it would run for the opening between them to escape what it thought was an enclosure. They weren't smart enough to just back away, and in this way, you could get them to move where you wanted them to go.

After gathering up enough planks for all the lystrosaurs, everyone paired up and approached a creature. Connor teamed up with Cutter.

"Ready?" asked Cutter, holding his plank near the head of the animal, who was too busy gobbling down a potato to notice their presence.

Connor nodded, and the two of them held their boards in place. The lystrosaur shuffled in agitation and then made a break for the opening between boards.

Connor pumped his fist. "How awesome was that!"

Cutter chuckled. "It's not exactly the kind of dinosaur hunting I had in mind when I took this job, but it's not bad."

As they continued to herd their lystrosaur across the field, Connor decided to ask Cutter about something that had been bothering him lately.

"Professor," he said, as they followed the animal to its newest location, "do you know anything about women?"

"Well, I married one," he said chuckling, "but I'm not sure that means I know much. Girl trouble, I take it?"

"Yeah, big time." He frowned as he figured out the best way of explaining his situation. "How do you know if a girl likes you or not? I mean, if I spend all my time with a girl and touch her all the time for no good reason and never go out with me mates and instead spend all my time with her, it would be pretty obvious I liked her, wouldn't it?"

"Ah, I see your mistake. You're using logic."

"That's bad, huh?"

"Women don't follow logic. They have their own set of rules, and I haven't met a man yet who's been able to understand them."

Connor sighed. "Great, then how'm I supposed to know what to do?"

Cutter didn't answer right away because they'd come upon their creature again and had to do the trick with the boards and move it slowly toward the anomaly.

"I wish I had the answer," said Cutter as they followed the animal once again. "I assume this is about Abby?"

Connor nodded. "She keeps giving me mixed signals."

"Give her time." Cutter paused to stretch his back. "Sometimes it's hard to know what you like even when it's right in front of you."

Just then, laughter floated across the field from Abby and Jenny, who were busy herding their own creature. He and Connor watched them trick their lystrosaur to run between planks and toward the anomaly. A moment later, Jenny and Abby giggled and fell against each other for no apparent reason, and then ran after the creature as if the whole thing were a big game.

Connor's heart skipped a beat at how pretty Abby looked in her light blue t-shirt and jeans, with the sun turning her hair elven white. He wished he were with her instead of Cutter so he could enjoy the fun.

Cutter clapped him on the back. "C'mon, women will always be around, but these lystrosaurs are only here for a short time."

After one last glance at Abby, Connor trailed after Cutter. _Always be around?_ Connor wasn't so sure of that. And even if it was true, even if he and Abby could be friends for the rest of their lives, was that something he wanted? Or was it time to look for something else?


	7. Chapter 7

Abby pulled out her white-out and brushed over her latest goof. She was trying to update her observation log on the lystrosaurs, but she couldn't seem to concentrate. Instead of writing "wild pig" she'd written "Caroline."

It was a natural mistake, she figured.

Her mobile rang, and it was Connor. She put a smile on her face in case her sudden guilt over thinking of his girlfriend as a pig carried over the airwaves. "Hello."

"Hi," said Connor, sounding a little nervous. "Um, you know how we were going to watch a DVD tonight?"

"Yes?" Abby's smile faded.

"Well, Caroline called, and she has tickets to see this band she likes. Someone at her job couldn't go, you see."

Abby felt a headache coming on and massaged her forehead. "And it's tonight?"

"Yeah, but I can tell her no if you want. I know I promised we'd see a romantic comedy with you, even though they're usually horrid, but you watched Serenity with me last time, so it's only fair. Anyway, it's just that we can watch the movie anytime, but the concert is only tonight . . ." He trailed off uncertainly.

"It's fine, Connor. Go. Enjoy your concert. I've got a headache anyway and wouldn't be good company."

"You sure? Because I don't mind staying home with you. What I mean is, I like being with you, yeah? So it's not like a sacrifice or anything. We always have a good time, don't we?"

"Connor?"

"Yeah?"

"You're digging yourself a hole here. Time to stop before you're completely buried."

Connor laughed, and she could picture him rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Okay, cool. Brilliant. I'll see you later tonight or maybe tomorrow if you're in bed by the time I get home. Oh, and take some paracetamol for your headache, yeah?"

Abby promised she would and ended the call. As she rose to go in search of a pain reliever, she bumped her bottle of white-out. The brush fell onto her log book smeared white paint across the page.

With a couple of choice curses, Abby righted the bottle, but it was too late to save her entry. Instead she tore out the page, crumpled it into a satisfying ball, and hurled it toward the waste basket.

Her aim was terrible, and the paper sailed through the open door.

"Hey," said Jenny, from the hallway. She stuck her head in Abby's lab, holding out the paper. "Did you mean to do this?"

"Sorry." Abby rubbed her forehead. "Just not having a good day."

"Oh? Something I can help you with?" Jenny came in and took a seat at an empty stool, depositing the paper on the table.

"Only if you know a way of getting rid of Connor's new girlfriend."

Jenny laughed. "Do you want her legs broken or should she be taken out permanently?"

Abby snorted. "I just want her gone. I'm not too picky about how."

"What's wrong with her? According to Connor, she's sounds perfect."

"Perfect? She's far, far, far from perfect. I don't even know where to start."

Jenny held up a finger. "Hang on, this sounds like a longer conversation than something we should do at work. What are doing you tonight? Fancy getting a drink somewhere, maybe some food too?"

Abby wanted to hug Jenny. She could use a friend right now, but she wasn't sure Jenny would appreciate her unloading all of her complaints on her. "You sure? I'm probably being selfish and entirely unfair to Connor, but I could really use an unbiased opinion."

"I love giving my opinion, and I could use a night out myself."

After they finalized their plans, Abby downed a paracetamol with a Coke, hoping to get rid of her headache before the day ended. As she started on a fresh page in her log book, she made a conscious effort not to write the name Caroline anywhere ever again.

-XXX—

"So what's wrong with Caroline?" asked Jenny after their drinks arrived.

Abby sipped her frozen margarita, feeling an immediate buzz, which was exactly what she needed right now. "Before I say any more, you have to promise you won't say anything about this to Connor, yeah? I would feel horrid if he ever found out what we're talking about."

Jenny's eyes widened and she held up a hand as if taking a solemn vow. "Never! I promise."

"Okay, here goes." Abby took another sip and launched into her long list of complaints. Caroline was fake, she smiled at Connor and then sneered at Abby. If Caroline made dinner for Connor, she pretended to include Abby in front of Connor, but then gave Abby a look as if she were a bug to be shooed away. Caroline never let Connor kiss her on the lips. When he tried to hold her hand, she pulled it away and instead grabbed his scarf or put her hand on his shoulder, as if she didn't want to touch his bare skin.

Plus she was always, always over. It seemed like Abby couldn't be alone with Connor in the flat without Caroline popping by, often unannounced. Abby could tell it annoyed Connor sometimes, but he seemed unable to tell her to just leave. Abby felt like she and Connor never got a chance to talk alone in their own flat anymore.

"And what's worst," concluded Abby, jabbing the air with her pointer finger. "Is that she seems to know when Connor and I have plans and goes out of her way to ruin them. Last weekend Connor asked me to go to this carnival, but he stupidly mentioned it to Caroline, and suddenly she wanted to go even though she gets motion sickness and can't go on any of the rides. So I end up sitting alone at home while Connor goes with her to the cute carnival we'd both been talking about all week. And tonight, she just happened to get free tickets to a concert when she knows that it's me and Connor's movie night. So once again, I get shoved aside for that . . . that . . ."

"Bitch?" asked Jenny, amused.

"Yeah." Abby slumped down in her chair and downed more of her margarita. "I know she's pretty and girly and wears nice clothes, but honestly, I don't know what Connor sees in her. She doesn't seem like his type at all."

The waiter brought them their order of loaded nachos, and Abby asked for another margarita. It was going to be one of those nights, she decided, where she drowned her sorrows just a little bit.

"Want to know what I think?" asked Jenny. She popped a nacho chip in her mouth.

"Of course."

Jenny finished chewing her nacho, brows knit together in thought. "I think Connor is a typical guy in that a pretty girl is paying attention to him, so of course he's interested. Plus, I don't know this for sure, but Connor doesn't strike me as the type of guy who's dated many people. You've known him over a year now. Has he dated much?"

Abby didn't have to give it much thought. "Unless he went out in secret, then no. I don't think he's been on a date since I've known him. But then again, neither have I." She shrugged ruefully.

"Exactly," said Jenny. "This is all new and exciting for Connor. He's not thinking about compatibility. He's just enjoying the idea of having a girlfriend. Suddenly all of those things you can't do because you're single, he can do now. Once the novelty wears off, he'll start seeing the real Caroline, I'm sure."

"You think?" Abby munched on a nacho as she considered that she might have to be patient while Connor went through his wow-I-have-a-girlfriend phase.

"I do."

Then something else occurred to Abby. "But what if Connor isn't going through a phase? What if he really likes Caroline even though she's so awful? Worse yet, what if they become a couple and move in together?"

Jenny laughed. "I think that's putting the cart before the horse, but if he moves in with Caroline, she won't be in your hair anymore. Problem solved, isn't it?"

"I suppose so, yeah." Abby picked an olive off the nachos and rolled it between her fingers. She didn't have much of an appetite any more.

"I have one other thought," said Jenny, waiting until Abby looked up at her again. "I'm not sure you'll want to hear it, though."

This time Abby laughed. "Sounds dire, but I came here to get your opinion, didn't I?"

"You're jealous."

Abby's mouth dropped open. "I am not!"

"Uh huh." Jenny gave Abby a skeptical look. "Half the reasons you don't like Caroline aren't about Caroline. They're about how she comes between you and Connor. How she ruined your date with him to the carnival or how she messed up your movie night tonight."

"That wasn't a date," insisted Abby. "We're friends. We do things together. Just like you and I are having a drink together. There's no difference."

"If Connor had plans to take, say, Stephen to the carnival, do you think Caroline would've suddenly wanted to go?"

Abby traced a bead of condensation down her glass. "I suppose not."

"And if Connor was spending a lot of time with a mate instead of a girlfriend, how much would that bother you?"

Abby tried to picture that guy Duncan from Connor's uni. She imagined Duncan hanging out in the flat, playing Xbox and ruining her and Connor's movie night with free tickets to a concert. Sure, she would've been annoyed with Connor for canceling their plans, but what Connor had said was true. They could watch a movie anytime. If Connor had plans with Duncan instead of Caroline, she'd probably be happy for Connor because he didn't socialize that much outside of work. She'd probably tell Connor to have a good time and then enjoy having the flat to herself for the evening.

"No, it wouldn't bother me nearly so much," she admitted.

"Abby," said Jenny, reaching out to pat Abby's hand, "if you like Connor, do something about it. Before Caroline, it was obvious to everyone that he fancied you. He asked you—not Caroline—to the carnival, right?"

Abby nodded. "But that was because we saw it being assembled all week on the way to work and talked about how fun it looked."

"It doesn't matter. He still asked you, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Don't wait until it's too late. Connor might stop trying to do stuff with you and just concentrate on Caroline. He might slip away before you decide—" She broke off, as she stared at something over Abby's shoulder.

Abby turned and peaked around the side of the booth. Connor stood in the entrance to the bar area of the restaurant. Caroline was at his side, her hand looped around Connor's elbow. Before Abby could duck back into the booth, Connor spotted her, and their eyes met. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

"Speak of the devil," muttered Abby falling back into the booth.

"They're coming over," said Jenny. "Should we make room for them or pretend we're on our way out?"

Abby glanced at their almost-full order of nachos still on the table and their still half-empty margarita glasses. She sighed. "Scoot over, I suppose."

When Connor and Caroline appeared, Abby forced a smile onto her face.

"Fancy meeting you two here," said Connor. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. Caroline smiled at Abby, but it didn't reach her eyes. Abby grimaced back at her.

When Caroline cleared her throat, Connor introduced her to Jenny.

"We just thought we'd pop over for a drink before the concert," explained Caroline, clinging possessively to Connor's arm.

Connor glanced over at Abby a couple of times. He leaned down toward her. "Sorry about messing up movie night."

"It's okay," said Abby brightly. "It freed me up to get drinks with Jenny. We're having a lot of fun, aren't we, Jenny?"

"We sure are." Jenny gestured vaguely to the table. "Would you like to join us?"

"Sure," said Connor at the same time Caroline said, "Thanks, but I think we'd rather—"

But Connor had already slid next to Abby on her side of the booth, leaving Caroline alone next to the table. An annoyed look flashed across her face before it was smoothed into oblivion. She waited while Jenny moved her purse onto her lap, then sat on Jenny's side of the booth.

Connor reached over and grabbed a loaded nacho. "I'm proper starving. You don't mind if I nick some of these, do you?"

As he ate, Caroline told them about the band they were going to see and how it was so incredibly lucky that she was able to get these tickets for them at the last minute. Abby half-way listened while she sipped her margarita and surreptitiously watched Connor, wondering if she really were jealous. Hadn't she already decided she and Connor were just mates? How could she be jealous of another girl if she didn't even find Connor attractive? That didn't make any sense.

Maybe she needed to test things out, like a scientific experiment, and write about them in her log book. She could try holding his hand and see what it felt like. Or try kissing him and see if those lips felt as good as they looked. Or just try seeing him as something other than a friend. Maybe they should go on a proper date.

Connor glanced at her "You're staring at me. Do I have something on me face?" He brushed his mouth and chin with his fingers.

"Huh? No, no, you're fine. I was just thinking, is all."

Caroline cleared her throat. "Connor," she said too sweetly, "we should really get going, don't you think?"

"But we haven't even ordered a drink yet."

"I know, but I'm worried about parking. I'll just run to the ladies room, then we can be on our way, all right?"

He shrugged and said that was fine. As Caroline slid out of the booth, Jenny followed her. "The ladies room sounds like a good idea. I'll go too." As Jenny turned to follow Caroline down through the bar, she gave Abby a pointed look. "Do something," she mouthed, glancing at Connor, who was busy grabbing another nacho.

Abby glared at her.

"Sorry we couldn't stay longer," said Connor after they'd left. He reached over and picked up her drink. "I was really hoping to get a margarita. Do you mind?"

She waved at him to go ahead.

"Mmm," he said, putting it down. "We should come here another time, yeah?"

"You know what?" said Abby. "We should. We haven't done anything with just the two of us since we went shopping, have we?"

"No, I guess not." He frowned and gave her a funny look. "Do you want to do something? Together?"

"Yeah, I kind of miss spending time with my best friend."

"You do?"

She nodded and watched his face light up.

"Cool." Connor scrunched up his nose in thought. "Well, we could see that movie you wanted to see on Friday, maybe get pizza and beer."

Abby shook her head. "No, let's go _out_ somewhere, do something different, just the two of us."

"Okay." He gave her a sly look. "I still need to take you out to dinner for me make-over."

"But it'll take forever to get those suits altered. I don't want to wait so long."

Connor grinned. "You won't have to wait. I had me mum send them to me last week and I already took them to a tailor. I'm picking them up tomorrow."

"No way!" She grinned back at him.

"Surprised you, didn't I?" Connor picked up her margarita and took another drink. "So do you want to go to a fancy restaurant on Friday? Get all dressed up?"

It was already Wednesday. Abby pictured the dresses in her closet, but they were all old. Since she hardly ever got dressed up, she hadn't bought anything new in a long time. "I don't know, Connor. That only leaves me one day to go shopping . . ."

"We could go Saturday then."

"Isn't that when you and Caroline go out, though?"

"That's okay, we don't have plans yet. I'll just tell her I'm busy, yeah?"

"If you're sure." Abby spied Caroline and Jenny headed back to their table, so she added quickly, "Best not to tell her about this, yeah? She might get mad or want to come along, and the whole point of going out is for it to be just the two of us."

Connor stared at her. "Yeah, if that's the whole point of it . . ."

Jenny slid into the booth while Caroline stood next to it, arms crossed and glaring suspiciously at Abby and Conner.

"We should get going," she said to Connor.

As Connor started to slide out of the booth, Abby grabbed his arm. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Have a good time," she told him.

He mumbled thanks and ducked his head in embarrassment. Once he was out of the booth, Caroline wrapped her painted claws around his elbow and practically dragged him away from their table. She glanced over her shoulder and shot Abby a murderous look. Abby gave her an innocent little wave in return.

"Well done," said Jenny, laughing. "Well done. Shall we order another drink?"

"Sure, why not? I need your opinion on something else entirely."

"Oh, what's that?"

"On this scientific experiment I want to do."


	8. Chapter 8

Abby opened her log book and reread her entries from a few days ago.

_Subject: Connor Temple_

_Problem: Connor has stronger feelings for me than I have for him. _

_Hypothesis: If I hold Connor's hand and try kissing him and thinking about him as more than a friend, then I'll realize I'm attracted to him because the handholding and the kissing will feel really good._

She chewed on her pen and decided to add some observations, the way she would for one of her animals.

_Connor is really cute._

_He's still a boy in many ways. Not very manly._

_He's funny._

_He says the wrong things at the wrong times._

_He's a genius._

_He can be thick._

_He's really a good person._

_He spends way too much time playing video games._

_He likes my animals, especially Rex._

_He's kind and has a good heart._

_He loves me._

Abby stopped writing.

The last sentence just stopped her cold. Connor loved her. There was no denying it anymore, and now she wasn't sure what it meant. She threw down her pen. This wasn't working. She needed to talk to Jenny.

After grabbing two cups of coffee, she hurried to Jenny's office and tapped on the side of the doorframe with one of the mugs.

Jenny glanced up. "Abby, what are you doing here? You should've taken the day off. Are you okay?"

As it turned out, Abby had never gotten her posh dinner with Connor on Saturday. An anomaly alert and an incursion of Mer creatures had ruined the entire weekend. She'd been told to stay home after her ordeal, but she wanted to be tough and come into work, anyway. Plus, it wasn't that big a deal. She'd survived with nothing more than a little soreness and some sensitive fingertips.

"I'm fine, really." She passed one of the mugs across the desk to Jenny, who thanked her with a huge look of relief.

"Whew, I'm up to my ears in paperwork," said Jenny. "Haven't had a chance to even think about coffee yet."

Abby hesitated and turned to go. "Sorry, I don't want to bother you."

"Don't be silly," said Jenny, waving to one of her visitor chairs. "Just let me finish this one e-mail." She typed for a moment on her laptop and hit the enter key. "There, all done. I can take a breather now. What's up?"

Abby glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was standing in the corridor. She turned back to Jenny and leaned forward. "Connor loves me," she whispered.

"What?" Jenny blinked. "How? When? Where?"

Abby described what had happened on the other side of the anomaly when she'd been kidnaped by a Mer creature. Connor had laid down on the edge of a cliff, grabbed her hand, and refused to let go, even when she was pulling him off the edge and begging him to drop her. He'd shouted out his love for her moments before Stephen and Cutter arrived to help pull her up to safety.

Sweet, geeky Connor had followed her through the anomaly and saved her life like some kind of action hero. He wasn't big and macho, but he'd done the big and macho thing, and then he'd declared his love for all the world to hear.

"It was like something straight out of a movie," she said as she finished the story.

Jenny's eyebrows shot up practically to her hairline. "I bet he never told Caroline that."

Abby snickered, and the two of them shared a smug smile.

"So what did you say to him?" asked Jenny.

"Nothing yet." Abby turned the coffee mug to and fro in her hands. "At first he pretended that he didn't remember. Then when Caroline showed up, he looked relieved that he didn't have to talk about it."

"Men." Jenny huffed. "They're all the same, aren't they? Cowards when it comes to the emotional stuff. Even Connor, who seems more sensitive than most."

"I'm not sure what to do now." After Connor had gone to the theater, Abby had taken a bath and slipped into bed with a good book and a heating pad for her sore arms and shoulders. She'd woken up this morning with stuff muscles. Plus she was exceedingly tired from a series of bad dreams where she couldn't swim fast enough to get to the surface of the water. She could see Connor's silhouette above her, his arm outstretched to rescue her, only she couldn't get there in time and drowned, over and over again, cold water filling her lungs, choking her. As darkness closed in and she knew she was about to die, she heard him scream "I love you" as it if were her fault she wasn't strong enough to get to him, as if it were her fault he'd be left heartbroken and alone.

"Well, how do you feel about what he said?" asked Jenny, wrenching Abby's mind back to the present. "Happy . . . or something else?"

"I don't know. That's the problem." When she thought about it, she didn't feel anxious or annoyed, like she had when other guys had said it to her in the past and she hadn't returned their feelings.

If she allowed herself to think about Connor screaming out his feelings—which she did almost all the time because the words kept echoing in her mind as soon as she wasn't concentrating on something else—she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. Connor Temple loved her. He loved her. She felt so responsible all of a sudden, so grown up. It wasn't just a flirtation between them anymore. It was more serious, the stuff of real adult relationships, and Abby couldn't just pretend that it hadn't happened.

She let out a big sigh. "I'm all mixed up."

Cutter walked into the office, reading from a piece of paper and not looking at where he was going. "Jenny, I need to talk to you about—" Cutter almost bumped into Abby. He glanced up just in time and had to rock back on his heels to avoid her. "Abby, what're you doing here?"

"I work here," she said with a smirk.

"Obviously." He snorted. "I thought we told you to take the day off."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" said Abby with some exasperation. "I'm fine, really. I'd just be bored at home."

"Well, if you're sure," said Cutter, doubtfully.

"Abby was just telling me about the dramatic rescue on the other side of the anomaly," said Jenny, sending her an apologetic look for the interruption.

"Ah, yes." Cutter folded his paper in half. "I was going to talk to you about that later. There's something I wanted you to know about what happened." He looked uncomfortable and kept staring at his paper.

Abby glanced from Cutter to Jenny. Jenny shook her head, indicating she didn't know what he was going on about.

"What is it?" prodded Abby.

"We thought you'd died," said Cutter slowly, finally meeting her eyes. "I mean, really died. We searched as long as we could, but then we had to call off the divers. No one could survive underwater that long. I thought you should hear it from me rather than read it in the formal report."

"I was even getting ready to notify your next of kin," added Jenny, kindly. "Your brother, I believe, um, Jack?"

Abby stared at them both. They thought she'd died? It seemed surreal. To her it had only been a few hours while she'd been trapped, waiting for rescue. A rescue that they weren't even planning on sending, apparently. "Yeah, Jack," she murmured. "He's my only family. I'm glad you didn't call."

"We shouldn't have given up," said Cutter with an angry set to his mouth. "I should've known it was more complicated than a normal drowning. For heaven's sake, you were both taken by a creature, and we didn't even consider that."

Abby swallowed. Suddenly her experience seemed so much more serious than she'd realized.

"Connor was the only one who didn't want to give up," continued Cutter. "He kept shouting at us that you weren't dead and we should keep looking. Lester told Jenny to take Connor home to calm him down. He was almost hysterical. Then Lester fired me on the spot."

"But you wouldn't stay fired, would you?" Jenny gave him a small smile.

Cutter chuckled. "No, I'm not very good at following orders." He grew more serious as he turned back to Abby. "I was determined to find the creature who'd killed you, Abby. Rather, who we _thought_ had killed you. I called Connor for help. I didn't think he'd have anything to do with me, but he came anyway. He made it clear that it wasn't for me, though. It was for you. He said it's what you would have wanted. Then we found Lucien, and, well, you know the rest."

Abby noticed her hands were shaking, so she gripped her mug tight to keep them still.

"I'm sorry," said Cutter. He reached out to pat her on the shoulder, but Abby drew away.

"I told Lucien not to worry because my friends were coming," Abby told him. "But you weren't, were you?"

"I understand if you're angry with us," said Jenny, "but we never would've stopped looking if we had any idea you might still be alive."

Abby stared at her mug. She knew she'd been in a lot of danger yesterday, that she'd come close to drowning a couple of time, close to falling off a cliff and being eaten by Mer creatures after that. But she hadn't imagined her coworkers had actually thought she'd died, had given up on her.

"Maybe you should go home," said Cutter. "You've had a traumatic experience. It's understandable to take a day or two off."

"My fingers hurt," said Abby, holding them up for Cutter and Jenny to see. The tip of every finger was scraped raw from hanging onto rusty metal. "It was really hard to hold on. My arms were burning they were so tired. I kept telling myself that help was coming, and I wouldn't have to wait much longer. But I was wrong, wasn't I? It's only accidental that you found me."

"Abby," said Cutter, "I really think you should—"

Abby held brought her fingers back against the warm mug. The heat felt good on them. "I'm fine. I don't blame you or anything. If I'd been in your position, I'd probably have done the same thing. It's just a lot to take in, yeah?"

"Go home," said Cutter, giving her a sympathetic look. "This time it's an order."

"Call me if you need anything," added Jenny.

Abby nodded. She wanted to reassure them that she was all right, but her throat was suddenly too tight to speak. So she just turned and walked out of the office, intending to grab her purse and go straight home so she could process the idea of everyone believing her dead, especially Connor who'd apparently been so upset he'd had to be taken home like one of those people you see on TV who are being held back by a rescue worker, screaming and carrying on.

But instead of going to her lab, she found herself practically running down the hall to the hub.

When she got there, she was out of breath. The whole space was empty except for Connor, who lay on a skateboard under the ADD, hands deep inside some wiring. She could hear him swearing under his breath.

She set her mug on a table and walked up to him, breathing hard. "Connor."

He bumped his head on a metal bracket. "Ow." While rubbing the spot, he scooted out from under the machinery and glanced up at her. "Don't sneak up on me like—" He stopped to give her a closer look. Then he rose to his feet and reached out to touch her arm. "Abby, you're shaking. What's wrong?"

She shook her head, unable to speak past the knot in her throat, so she just threw her arms around him. Sobs broke out and she found herself crying into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She felt him bury his head against her neck and rub her back.

They stood like that for what felt like hours while Abby cried and Connor tried to soothe her. He was warm and solid and she felt incredibly safe in his arms. She didn't want to let go.

"Abby, you're scaring me," he said into her ear, still holding her close. Not that he had any choice with the way she was clinging to him. "What's wrong? Did something happen here at work?"

"No," she said, trying to get her emotions under control. She pulled back a little and wiped tears from her cheeks. "I just found out that everyone thought I'd died yesterday."

"Oh," he said.

"It must've been awful." She hugged him close.

"It was," he said, resting his forehead on her shoulder and tightening his arms. "More awful than you can imagine."

"They gave up looking for me," she said, trying to figure out why the news was so upsetting. "I feel so, I don't know, betrayed. Yet I can't blame them at the same time."

"I didn't want to." Connor grabbed her face between his hands and forced her to meet his eyes. "I tried to get them to keep looking, but no one would listen to me. They made me leave. You have to believe me, Abby. I'd never give up on you." His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Shh, shh." As she gave him another hug, he rested his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair. "I believe you, Connor. I'd be the same way with you, wouldn't I?"

"Would you?" he asked, pulling away to search her face.

"Yeah, of course I would." And it was true, Abby realized. She couldn't imagine ever giving up on Connor, even if there was the tiniest chance he was still alive. She couldn't live with herself otherwise.

"Hear, hear, what's going on?" asked Lester, interrupting them. He stood in the entrance to the hub, giving them both disdainful looks. "This doesn't look ARC related."

Abby and Connor broke away from each other, wiping their eyes and sniffling.

"Abby isn't feeling well." Connor straightened his shoulders and faced Lester as if he were staring down a bully. "And now I'm taking her home." He glanced at Abby to check with her. She nodded to let him know it was what she wanted to do anyway.

"Ah, well." Lester cleared his throat and looked away, pretending disinterest. "What are you waiting for then? I'm surprised you're here at all, Abby."

As Connor started to usher Abby out of the hub, Lester called out her name. Abby turned. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad to see you're all right," Lester said, studying his cufflinks. "Take your time coming back to work. I don't want a lawsuit on my hands because you came back too soon and injured yourself or something. And Connor?"

Connor glanced back at him. "Yo."

"You might as well take the rest of the day off too. Keep an eye on Abby, and try not to get into trouble, would you?"

Connor and Abby gave each other surprised looks and escaped before Lester could change his mind.

On the way out, they stopped by the lab so Abby could grab her purse. As they crossed the parking lot, she slipped her hand into Connor's. He glanced at her in surprise, and curled his fingers around hers.

"Thanks for taking me home," she told him when they got to the car. "I don't want to be alone now."

Connor blushed and ducked his head. "It's what best friends are for, aren't they?"

"Yeah, they are."

"Plus," he said holding out his free hand, "I figure you'll let me drive the Mini, won't you?" He grinned, showing off his dimple.

Abby rolled her eyes and dropped the keys into his hand. "Oh all right. Just this once."

"Thank you, Abby."

After they got in the car and started toward home, Abby reached over and rested her hand on top of Connor's. After a moment, he turned his palm around so they could hold hands properly. And they did the entire way home.

-XXX-

_Note: I'm a little worried this might feel like a distraction from the main story, but I thought it was important for Abby's growth to hear Connor tell her he loved her. Hopefully, all the readers thinks this chapter is okay. If not, please stay tuned. The dinner out is coming next._

_Also, thank you to everyone who has been reviewing this story! Your reviews mean a lot to me. I really appreciate them!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: I just wanted to let you know that this chapter is a bit AU, but I think it still fits in pretty well with Season 2.**

Connor glanced up from the ADD, trying to figure out the best way to fine-tune some of his settings. As he stared off into space, he couldn't help noticing Abby out of the corner of his eye. She was staring right at him.

Again.

Their eyes met. She quickly looked down and scribbled something in her notebook. Connor turned back to the ADD, feeling a warmth creep up his neck. She'd been watching him a lot lately and then writing something down in her notebook, which she seemed to carry with her everywhere. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was studying him like one of her animals that was kept here at the ARC.

At home, she was doing it too. He caught her watching him while he play Diablo, rolled his socks, buttered a scone, fed Rex, and changed a light bulb. It was different than her usual staring, which was quickly followed by a head tilt, pursed lips, and a liberal dose of scolding.

This time she was staring, really staring, for a long time. And no criticism followed.

When he asked her about it, she just laughed and said, "In your dreams, Connor." But it wasn't in his dreams. He was sure of it.

It even happened when he got out of the shower this morning. He opened the door, wearing just a towel because he expected to be able to dash up to his room unseen like he did every morning while Abby was busy getting dressed. It was their workday routine. But for some odd reason, this morning, she was standing right outside the bathroom door. Connor almost bashed into her. He reeled backward into the doorframe, clutching the towel in place and mumbling "sorry," even though it wasn't his fault at all. She yelped "Connor" and grabbed his arm to keep from stumbling. If it seemed like she held on longer than she needed to, well, he was sure she'd say that was his imagination too.

He hurried up the steps to change. When he glanced back down, he'd caught Abby picking up a pen on her way back to her room.

And now she was watching him at work too.

"Weird," he muttered.

"What's weird?" asked Stephen. He sauntered up to the ADD, munching on an apple. "Something wrong with your computers?"

"No, everything's fine." Connor swiveled so his back was to Abby's side of the room. He leaned toward Stephen. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure." Stephen rolled over a chair and sat down. He pulled a printout from his back pocket and unfolded it on the work station. "Only if you'll help me with this data. I need someone to check my calculations."

"But my favor isn't nearly as time consuming," protested Connor.

"Okay, fine. I'm sure everything will sort itself out with Abby." Stephen took back his printout and prepared to stand.

"How did you know it was about—?"

Stephen shrugged and smiled.

Connor rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. I didn't say I wouldn't do it, did I?"

"So what's the favor?"

"Don't look, but I need you to tell me what Abby is doing right now."

"Don't look?" Stephen smirked. "Should I use mirrors?"

Connor gave him an exasperated look. "You know what I mean. Just be subtle."

Stephen took a bite of apple and glanced over at Abby. After a moment, he waved and smiled at her.

"That's subtle?" Connor said, glaring at Stephen.

"I had no choice, mate. She was looking right here." Stephen finished up his apple and tossed the core across the room. It soared in a perfect arc and landed in a bin with a loud thump.

Connor bit back a sarcastic comment about Stephen being a showoff and focused on the subject at hand. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

Connor played with a loose thread on his glove. "Abby has been watching me ever since I . . . you know . . . on the other side of the anomaly. What do you think it means?"

Stephen squinted at him. "I need more information. What exactly did you do on the other side of the anomaly?"

Connor tugged on the thread and it started to unravel around his thumb. "Told her I . . . well . . . I told her I loved her."

"Oh."

"Yeah, kind of a big deal, don't you think?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely big. Huge even." Stephen leaned back in his chair and looked over his shoulder in Abby's direction.

"Well?" asked Connor.

"Yep, she's looking over here again."

"See what I mean? She's watching me all the time. What should I do?" Connor needed instructions. He'd never been in this kind of predicament before. Girls usually told him to get lost or they were too clingy and weird. Caroline was the only normal girl he liked who liked him back, but ever since he'd almost lost Abby, he had a hard time even thinking about Caroline. And now Abby was acting weird.

"Have you talked to her about what you said yet?" asked Stephen.

"Not really." Connor unraveled more thread.

"And does 'not really' mean 'not at all'?" Stephen gave Connor an amused look.

"Maybe."

"Connor, she's waiting for you to say something. It's time you manned up and talked about how you feel."

"What if she doesn't feel the same way? She's already told me we're just friends, yeah? I don't want to make her uncomfortable."

"That ship has already sailed, mate." Stephen chuckled. "You can't leave those words hanging out there between you. She's obviously waiting for you to do something."

"Do something?"

"Try asking her out, see what she says."

"We're going to dinner on Saturday."

"That's perfect. You can talk to her then."

_Perfect?_ That wasn't perfect. That was a terrible idea. Connor had been looking forward to their posh night out. Sure, it wasn't a date, but he'd get to see Abby in a pretty dress and maybe impress her by acting like a gentleman and wearing a suit and picking out a nice bottle of wine. Now suddenly, there was a big and potentially embarrassing conversation that could ruin the entire evening. Plus, there was the very real possibility of Abby telling him yet one more time how she couldn't see him as anything other than a pal. How many times could she make that speech before deciding it was too much trouble to even be friends with him anymore, let alone flat mates?

Connor swallowed heavily and unraveled a long strand of yarn. "Thanks," he muttered, "you've been a big help."

Stephen clapped him on the back. "Anytime. I'm sure you'll get it all sorted. Now, about these calculations."

As Stephen explained what he needed, Connor peeked at Abby from under his lashes. She was busy talking to a lab technician and, for once, he could watch her instead of the other way around. She wore a short denim skirt and a black tank top that kept falling off her shoulder. Connor longed to go over there and tug the material back into place. Or better yet, kiss the spot of pale skin on her absolutely perfect shoulder before he covered it back up.

If everything went well over the weekend, maybe he'd get that chance. More likely, though, he'd have to contend himself with daydreams about her for the rest of his life.

He sighed and forced himself to pay attention to Stephen, trying not to think about the big night out and its potential for disaster.

-XXX-

Abby had bought two outfits for her posh dinner with Connor. One was a black knit skirt that went well below her knees. It came with a sleeveless top and a belted jacket. She liked this outfit because it was tight and hugged her figure. If she took off the jacket, it was sexy without being too sexy. Plus the pieces were separate, so she could wear them with other things and get more use out of them for her money.

Her other dress was the complete opposite—red and daring and probably not something she'd ever wear again, except maybe to a New Year's Eve party. The top part was strapless and fitted. At the waist, it flared into a flirty skirt that stopped right above her knees. It was the type of dress people noticed, the type that screamed sexy. And it cost a fortune.

She was going to keep just one of them, but she hadn't made her mind up yet.

"Connor," she called, heading into the living room. "Where are we going Saturday for our big dinner? You never told—"

He was talking to Caroline. The two of them stood in the middle of the room, facing each other. Connor's arms were crossed and the muscles on his neck stood out. Caroline had a sour look on her face. She reached over and tried to tug on Connor's scarf, but he stepped back and pulled it out of her hand.

As Abby entered the room, they both turned to her in surprise.

"Caroline just popped by," explained Connor. "I didn't know she was coming." He sounded angry, which made Abby immensely pleased.

"It's just that I haven't heard from you for so long that I was getting worried," said Caroline.

"Well this is a . . . nice surprise." Abby put a smile on her face.

Caroline did not smile back. "Did I just hear you say you and Connor are going somewhere Saturday?"

Abby glanced at Connor, not sure how to answer. His eyes opened wide and he seemed to be sending her a message with them, but she had no idea what it was. As much as she wanted to tell Caroline that Connor loved her not Caroline, she figured it wasn't her place to do so.

"Yeah, no big deal," she explained. "Just a dinner thing for, um, work? Right, Connor?"

Connor swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, it's for work."

"Oh," purred Caroline, "but Saturday is our night out." She reached over and brushed some hair off Connor's forehead and around his ear. His mouth gaped open, probably because Caroline was actually touching his skin rather than his clothes. Abby rolled her eyes.

"Maybe we can do something afterwards," continued Caroline. She leaned forward and whispered something in Connor's ear. He turned to stare at her in disbelief and she kissed the side of his mouth.

"Oh, wow," he said, flustered. "That's amazing. You'd really—"

She nodded and continued stroking his face.

Abby watched, dumbfounded as her flat mate, who was supposedly in love with her, fall under the influence of this evil witch. Was this the kind of love he had for her then? Something so fleeting that Caroline just whispers into his ear and he's a puddle of goo? What did she whisper, that she was going to let him touch the top of her hand or something? Abby would let him do a lot more than that. She'd already held his hand, something Caroline never did.

"You know what?" said Abby. Her whole body had started shaking. She couldn't look at Connor. "You two go ahead and make plans. Our dinner's no big deal. If you'd rather go out with Caroline, it's fine. I'll just . . . return my dress . . . dresses . . . whatever."

Abby turned on her heel and rushed into the kitchen. She stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, pressing her hands against her eyes. She refused to cry, especially with Caroline in the next room. And especially since this whole crazy predicament was her fault anyway. If she hadn't been so adamant about being friends with Connor, he probably wouldn't have gone out with Caroline in the first place.

Abby took a couple of long, deep breaths like she'd learned in yoga. When she felt back in control again, she put water in the kettle, turned it on, and set about making herself a cup of tea. There was no way she was going back out there while Caroline was still around.

By the time the water had boiled, she noticed that things were awfully quiet in the living room. A moment later, she heard the door slam at the bottom of the stairs and Connor climb back to the top.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway, running a hand through his hair and looking up at her from beneath his eyelashes. "Did you mean it?" he asked.

"Mean what?" she put her teabag in a cup and poured water over it.

"About our dinner not being a big deal?"

Abby opened the fridge and pulled out the milk. She was too mixed up for anything but honesty. "No," she said simply.

"'Cause it's a big deal to me," he said, tugging at a thread on his glove. "A really big deal."

"Me too."

He sighed. "Abby, I don't understand you sometimes."

She pulled out another cup and put in a tea bag for Connor. "I don't understand me either sometimes."

They glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

Connor joined her at the counter and added sugar and milk to his tea. He bumped her hip with his and leaned close to her ear. "I told Caroline that I was spending the whole evening with you."

The way he said it was all low and growly in his throat, completely unlike Connor's usual way of talking. Abby found it incredibly hot, and she had to look at him to see if her flat mate hadn't turned into a suave movie star somehow. But no, it was still cute, adorable Connor. He grinned and flashed his dimple at her.

"So what kind of dress did you get?" he asked. "Because you won't believe the restaurant I have reservations at."

"Where is that?"

"It's a surprise, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah? Then I'm not telling you about my dress."

They grabbed their teas and headed into the living room. As they plopped onto the couch, Connor glanced at her. "Please, Abby. At least tell me the color."

"All right." Abby sipped her tea. "It's red."


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I promise the next one will come sooner. Also, a big thank-you to everyone who's made comments. And if you're still enjoying the story, please don't be shy about adding a comment this time. They're always welcome!**

-XXX-

Saturday night couldn't come soon enough for Connor. All week long, he spilled more and more things as the days ticked down to the big night.

First there was the coffee he dribbled on his ADD keyboard. It was loaded with sugar and cream, the worst combination for electronics. Luckily he managed to mop up the liquid before it damaged anything. But the next day, it didn't matter because he spilled an entire can of Coke across the whole thing, which entailed huge amounts of paper towels, mopping up everything under the workstation, tilting equipment to drain it, and finding a spare keyboard before Lester realized what Connor had done.

Then on Thursday he spilled a whole carton of milk on the kitchen floor in the flat. It was so bad, he had to mop under the refrigerator and stove. Abby helped, but mostly, she sighed in exasperation and begged him to clean up every drop because she didn't want to smell sour milk a week later.

Then he knocked over his entire DVD collection, dumped over the box in his closet that held his comic books, dropped his mobile in a puddle (and quickly picked it up before it was ruined), and dribbled ketchup all down the front of one of his new shirts during lunch on Friday.

Now that it was time to get dressed, he was glad he'd survived the week, and he hoped fervently that he'd gotten his clumsiness out of his system. The last thing he wanted to do was spill something on himself tonight. Or worse yet, spill something on Abby.

About an hour before they had to leave, Connor turned off his Xbox and marched upstairs. Abby had been getting ready for a long time, heaven knows why, and it was all quiet on her side of the flat.

Connor showered, shaved, combed his hair and ran some gel through it to hold it in place. His dad had left him a brown suit and a black suit. Connor liked the black better. Plus it would go better with Abby's red dress, so he picked that one out of the closet. He'd bought a white shirt and a dark purple tie to go with it. He really wanted to wear his fingerless gloves, but he didn't think they'd look right, so he didn't bother. But he did have purple socks with little dragons on them.

After getting dressed, he looked at himself critically in the mirror. For a moment, he thought he was seeing his own dad staring back at him, but he blinked and he was himself again, looking remarkably like his dad from old family photographs. Abby was right. Wearing the suit was like taking his dad with him.

Still, he looked smart, even if he did say so himself. The suit fit well. The tailor had worried that it was too big even to be taken in properly, but he'd managed to make it work. The white shirt was brand new and the right size. The purple tie was cool, but with his clean-shaven face and neatly combed hair, he looked too much like a banker. To fix that, Connor unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, loosened his tie, and ran fingers through his hair to mess it up a bit.

Then he changed his mind and put on his fingerless gloves, which made him feel much more like himself.

Finally he took a deep breath. It was time to quit stalling and begin the non-date with Abby. Just the thought of what might happen this evening, with all the potential for good and bad, set his heart thumping double-time in his chest. Connor took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

Abby was still in her room with the door closed, so he wandered around the flat, trying to get rid of his nervous energy. He checked the time. They still had twenty minutes before the taxi was due, so he sprinkled out some food for Rex, put away the clean dishes from the dishwasher, and straightened up the desk in the corner. Fifteen minutes left.

"Abby," he called, his voice squeaking. He cleared his throat. "You about ready?"

"Pretty soon," she said through the door. "Hey, am I driving tonight?"

"No, I called us a taxi."

"Oh, good idea. I'm almost ready."

"Okay." Connor made another circuit of the flat, bounced on Abby's exercise ball, and tried shadow boxing with her punching bag until his knuckles started hurting. Twelve minutes.

He checked his pockets. Did he have the printout of the reservations he'd made online? Check. Wallet with cash and credit card? Check. Breathmints? Check. Phone? Check.

Ten minutes.

Finally he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and settled in at the kitchen table.

By the time the taxi was due, Connor had drank half the bottle. He was still nervous, but the alcohol had smoothed down the edge, especially since he hadn't been able to eat anything since breakfast, and even then it had only been a piece of toast.

"I'm ready," said Abby.

Connor glanced up from where he'd been peeling the label off his bottle. Abby stood in front of him, and the sight of her literally made his jaw fall open. Little tomboy Abby had turned into a white-haired pixie in a strapless, sexy red dress. Her blue eyes looked huge and lovely. She wore red lipstick and high heels. She had diamond earrings in her ears and a thin gold chain around her neck. Her pale shoulders looked round and soft. He ached to touch them.

As Connor stared, Abby twirled in place, letting the bottom of her dress flare out and showing off a bit of thigh.

"Well?" she asked when he still hadn't said anything.

Connor blinked and closed his mouth. "Abby," he said, after he got his voice to work, "you look really beautiful. I don't think I've seen anyone look more amazing than you do right now."

"I do?" she asked, and Connor could've sworn he saw her blush.

"Yeah, better than the elves in Lord of the Rings."

She laughed. "And that's a good thing, I take it?"

"Oh yeah. They're magical, and right now you look magical. I think you look too good to be seen with me tonight."

"Nonsense." Abby gestured for him to rise. "Let me look at you."

Connor stood up and imitated her by turning in a circle. When he faced her again, he jammed his hands in his pockets to hide how they were shaking.

"Connor," she began. Then she stopped and swallowed. "You look really handsome. Your dad would be proud to see you in his suit, and I'm proud to be out with you tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They smiled at each other. Connor wanted to sear this moment into his memory so he could take it out and look at it again in the future in case things turned pear-shaped tonight. So he held her eyes longer than he ever would normally. The only thing was, it didn't turn uncomfortable like it would with anyone else. It was kind of wonderful, actually, to look into Abby's gorgeous blue eyes and have her looking back at him, as if she wanted to stare into his eyes too. If he was with any other girl, this was the moment he would try kissing her. Only it wasn't any other girl. It was Abby, and as far as he knew, they were still just pals.

Finally Abby glanced away. "What time is the taxi coming?" she asked, moving toward the table and grabbing his beer. She took a drink and handed it to Connor.

"Anytime now." Connor swallowed more beer and passed it back. They were standing really close. "You smell good."

She smiled at him, and Connor noticed how they were almost the same height now that she was wearing high heels. He liked it. If he did try to kiss her, all he'd have to do is tilt his head just a little bit.

"You smell good too," she murmured.

"It's me soap," he told her, breaking the spell between them.

She snorted, and Connor grinned at her. They stepped back from each other and the urge to kiss Abby right then and there faded away. It was a good thing too because Connor didn't want to get slapped this early into the evening.

They passed the beer back and forth until a horn honked from the street level. Connor gestured for Abby to go ahead of him. She grabbed a small purse and led him downstairs and into the taxi. Once he was inside, Connor showed the driver his printout of the restaurant.

"Connor," exclaimed Abby, "we're on our way and you're still not going to tell me where we're going?"

"I want it to be a surprise, don't I?" said Connor. "You'll see it soon enough."

"Okay," huffed Abby. "I just hope I didn't get dressed up for a sports bar."

Connor rolled his eyes. "Have you ever known me to go to a sports bar? Have some faith, yeah?"

"All right," said Abby. "I trust you. For now."

"Good, 'cause we're going to the Noodle Factory."

This time Abby rolled her eyes.

As the taxi pulled out into traffic, Connor settled into the seat next to Abby. To his surprise, she scooted closer until their shoulders were touching.

"It really doesn't matter where we go, Connor," said Abby softly. "It's just nice for us to be out together. It's been a long time."

"It sure has," said Connor, and before he could stop himself, he reached over and grabbed her hand. And then Abby did something utterly amazing.

She held his hand back.


	11. Chapter 11

In the taxi, Abby kept glancing at Connor to make sure she was with the right person. He looked so handsome in his fitted black suit that she thought she was going out with his twin brother from another dimension. He'd shaved and worn a tie and smelled really good—clean and spicy, like the aftershave she'd bought him for his birthday.

It was hard to believe this was the same guy who'd caught his shirt sleeve on fire just a few weeks ago. The same guy who only bought thrift-store clothes and never matched colors or patterns. The same guy who wore so many layers it was hard to see his real shape under the pile of material.

He was still Connor. He even had on his trademark fingerless gloves. He was just wrapped in a better package. A lot better.

_Field observation,_ she thought, mentally scribbling in her logbook. _Connor Temple is hot._

When she glanced at him again, Connor swallowed, making his Adam's apple bob up and down.

"Why're you looking at me so much?" he asked. "Do I have something in my teeth? Should I tie me tie? Oh, I know." Connor dropped her hand and unbuttoned his suit coat. "The tailor told me to always unbutton my coat when I sit down or the material will pull."

Abby laughed. "You're fine, honest. I'm only looking at you because you look so dashing. I want to make sure I'm with the right Connor Temple."

Connor's mouth dropped open in mock indignation. "I can look good when I want to. Women often find me attractive, you know."

Abby reached over and reclaimed his hand. "I bet they do. I just didn't know how good you could look is all."

Connor grinned and ducked his head. "Thank you very much."

They rode in silence for a couple of blocks until Abby felt Connor's breath in her ear. "I always knew you'd look amazing, Abby," he whispered. "And I was right."

When Abby turned toward him, his face was inches from her own. Their eyes met, and Abby felt like an anomaly had opened inside her, all sharp glittering fragments, sparkling in her gut, making it hard to breath.

Connor leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose.

When he pulled back, they just stared at each other. Connor's big brown eyes were warm and kind like usual, but there was an intensity behind them that made him look older and more mature. She could still see the boy in them, the one who played too many video games and made jokes at the wrong times, but the man he was becoming was there too.

"Hey," said Abby. She brushed back a piece of hair that was falling into his eyes.

Connor cupped the side of her face with his free hand and ran his thumb gently over her cheekbone. "Hey."

He leaned toward her. Abby closed her eyes.

"We're here," announced the taxi driver.

Abby started and pulled back. She released her breath as Connor untangled their fingers.

"Right," said Connor, breathlessly. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. "How much?"

As Connor paid the driver, Abby smoothed down the front of her dress and patted her hair into place. If they hadn't arrived at their destination, she would've kissed Connor. Had wanted to kiss Connor even. Her head reeled. She felt dizzy and couldn't help wondering what it would be like to press her lips against his.

But they were just pals, weren't they? Shouldn't she be discouraging this sort of thing? Unless her hypothesis was right, in which case she needed to kiss Connor to find out how much she enjoyed it. And almost kissing him didn't count.

As they climbed out of the cab, Abby looked around. They were on a street with posh hotels, night clubs, and restaurants. Other couples walked down the sidewalk, arm in arm, giving the neighborhood an air of anticipation and excitement. The setting sun bathed the buildings in an orange glow, and the air smelled like wood smoke and grilled steak.

The building in front of them had a royal blue overhang that led all the way to the curb, surrounded by potted shrubs.

Abby read the granite sign above the door. "Maxime's. We're going to Maxime's? Wow, Connor, that's supposed to be one of the best restaurants in London."

He smiled proudly. "I surprised you, didn't I?"

"You totally did. Are you sure this is okay? I bet it costs an arm and a leg. We don't have to go to such an expensive place."

Connor opened the door to the restaurant and ushered her inside. "Abby, I wouldn't take you here if I didn't want to. What's the point of dressing up if we can't go somewhere nice, yeah?"

"Well, I've always wanted to see what it was like." She smiled and gave him a little shrug.

As they entered, Connor kept his hand on her back and led her to a posh bar away from the main restaurant. Black leather chairs and couches filled the space. Sparkly lights hung from the ceiling, and the silver bar reflected the light. "I thought maybe we could get a drink first. Our reservation isn't for half an hour. This place is supposed to be famous for martinis or something. Is that okay?"

"Sure, this place looks amazing."

They took a seat on a couch near a wood-burning stove. Another couple sat on the other side of the stove.

When a waitress came by, Connor ordered a lemon drop martini while Abby ordered a chocolate one.

"I feel so posh," confessed Connor as they waited for their drinks. "I should wear a monocle and an ascot, yeah?"

Abby giggled. "My dear, Connor," she said in an exaggerated fake accent, "I wonder what Muffy and Biff are doing at the club tonight. Maybe we should join them later on their yacht."

"Don't you mean our yacht, darling?" said Connor, playing along. "It is ever so much larger than theirs because we have so much more money."

"Oh yes, I forget how loaded we are. I just don't want Muffy and Bif to get jealous and—"

The waitress set their drinks on the table, suppressing a smile at their silliness.

When she was gone, Abby raised her chocolate martini. "To us," she said.

"To us," repeated Connor as he clinked her glass. "Best friends, yeah?"

Abby frowned, not sure she liked the sound of that all of a sudden. "Yeah, best friends."

After a couple of sips, they switched drinks, tasted, and switched back to their originals. Abby thought Connor's was too sour. He thought hers was too sweet. As finished their own drinks, they chatted about nothing in particular—work and the flat and Rex and favorite desserts. It didn't matter. It was just fun talking to Connor. It was as easy and comfortable as it always was with him. Abby let the drink and the flickering firelight relax her. She stopped wondering about their status as friends or not friends. She was determined to just enjoy the evening no matter what.

So when it was time to head into the restaurant, she wasn't surprised to find her fingers entangled with Connor's once again.

"You know, Connor," she said, before she could help herself. She blamed the martini. "Best friends don't usually hold hands like this." It was meant to be teasing, but it came out more serious than that.

Several expressions flickered across Connor's face—uncertainty, fear, nervousness, and determination.

"No, they don't," he said, raising his eyebrows at her, his jaw thrust forward. "And normally I'd be worried about that. But the thing is, Abby, you're holding my hand as much as I'm holding yours."

Abby frowned. "So? What does that mean?"

Connor led her through the bar, still holding her hand. When they got to the maître d' stand, Connor glanced at her and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "It means, that you're not acting like a best friend. You're acting like a date. My date."

Abby looked down at the way their fingers were interlaced. Their hands fit well together. His was bigger than hers, of course, but not too big. And she felt so secure holding onto him, as if nothing could go wrong while they were joined together. She brought Connor's hand up to her mouth and kissed the top.

"Is that such a bad thing?" she asked.

"No," he answered, "it's not."


	12. Chapter 12

**Note: I'm honestly not trying to drag this out, but hopefully we're almost at the end. If you're curious about the restaurant I used as inspiration here, it's called Clos Maggiore. **

- xxx -

Connor felt like he was floating as he and Abby followed the maître d' to their table. First Abby had kissed his hand. Then she'd said she didn't mind if they were on a date. He had to glance down at their clasped hands as they walked just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And when he sat down, it was with an abrupt plop as his knees just gave way.

Under the table, he gave his arm a pinch, and it really hurt. That was good. The pain meant he wasn't dreaming. But that still didn't mean this was real, so he quickly glanced around to see if there were any men in suits and sunglasses watching him from the corners. Nope, he wasn't in a matrix simulation either. Then one other thing occurred to him, so he pretended to scratch the back of his head as he felt for some kind of cerebral implant, just in case he was in a super-realistic computer game and didn't know it. His head felt as smooth as ever.

"Connor," hissed Abby, giving him a strange look. "What're you doing?"

He blinked and wrenched his hand back down. He was going to blow his big chance with Abby with his nonsense if he wasn't careful.

"Nothing," he squeaked, glancing around and trying not to act weird, "just checking out the restaurant. It looks nice, doesn't it?"

It was more than nice. It was super romantic. Sparkly lights hung from a black ceiling, making it appear that they were outdoors. Flowers and vines decorated pillars and archways. Candles flickered on tables covered in white linen tablecloths. Soft music played in the background. The maître d' had sat them against the wall in the corner, so they were kind of isolated in their own little cocoon of sound and soft light.

"It's beautiful," said Abby, craning her neck to see all around. "No wonder everyone likes to eat here."

Mentally Connor gave himself a high five. The Internet had called Maxine's one of London's most romantic restaurants, and he'd done right to choose it—though he wasn't going to tell Abby his reasoning.

The two of them opened their menus just as the waiter came by. He introduced himself as Claude and took their drink order. Connor told him they'd be having wine, so the waiter gave them a wine list and left to get ice water.

While he was gone, Connor and Abby scanned their menus.

"Look at this how posh this sounds," exclaimed Connor. "Pea and mint soup, home-cured Scottish salmon, slow-cooked Cornish Pollack. Do you know what Pollack is?"

Abby squinted at her menu. "I think it's fish. Ever heard of Charolaise beef cheek before?"

"The cheek of a cow?"

"Kind of weird, huh?"

"Wonder if it comes with the lips attached."

Abby laughed. "Probably not, but I bet it tastes amazing."

Connor suggested they both order different things so they could try each other's dishes, and Abby agreed.

When Claude came back with their water, he explained the dishes to them. Abby picked the hand-rolled pappardella, which was a type of pasta, and Connor picked the beef cheeks, which did not come with lips attached, much to Connor's disappointment. For side dishes, they chose triple-cooked summer squash chips to share, and a green salad each. And for an appetizer they selected a dish of smoked eel and pork belly.

"Would you like wine with your appetizer?" asked Claude.

Connor glanced at Abby, and she shrugged and nodded her head.

They looked over the wine list, but Connor had no idea what to get. All he knew is that he didn't want to spend 125 pounds for one bottle of wine, as was listed on the menu.

"Anything strike your fancy?" he asked Abby, hoping she liked the wines at the lower end of the price range.

"All I know is I like red," she admitted.

They turned to Claude, who gave them a few suggestions. Abby pointed to the cheapest one, which was still twenty-seven pounds, and Connor readily agreed, glad she was looking out for his wallet like he was.

A few minutes later, Claude returned with the bottle. He showed them the label and opened it with one of those impossible-to-use cork screws. Then he poured a bit for Connor to taste. Connor made a bemused face at Abby who smiled back at him. He had an urge to spit out the wine and demand they find him something suitable like he'd seen people do on the telly. Instead he sipped it and nodded, just like a proper gentleman. It tasted fine to him, like how wine should taste, not that he had much experience with that sort of thing.

After Claude left, Connor raised his glass. "To a beautiful girl in an amazing red dress."

Abby raised her glass. "To a handsome bloke in an elegant black suit."

They grinned and clinked glasses.

Connor's phone rang. He frowned and pulled it out of his pocket. Caroline. He swore under his breath and debated answering as it rang yet again. He quickly muted the sound. A couple of people glanced his way, so he shrugged apologetically.

"Is it the ARC?" asked Abby.

Connor shook his head.

"You going to answer it?"

Connor felt rude ignoring Caroline, so he hit the button and said hello.

"Connor, hi," purred Caroline, "I hope I'm not interrupting your dinner."

"Actually," said Connor. He turned his body away from Abby's curious eyes and spoke as quietly as possible. "You are, kind of. Anything important?"

"No, just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you."

"Oh, that's sweet of you to say." Connor couldn't help smiling at the sentiment, even though he hadn't given her a thought all day. In fact, he hadn't thought of her hardly at all since she'd popped by the flat earlier in the week.

"Are you still going to be out all night? You could come over to my place afterward if you're not too tired. I'm going to be up watching The Dark Knight." She paused and Connor swore he could hear her lick her lips. "You could be my dark knight."

Connor blinked. He'd never heard Caroline be so forward before, and she'd never invited him over. "Um, well, it sounds lovely . . ." He wasn't sure how to answer.

Abby cleared her throat. Connor glanced over at her. She had crossed her arms and was glaring at him with her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes narrowed to little slits.

He quickly twisted away and spoke into the phone. "It's nice of you to ask, Caroline, but I can't. In fact, I've got to go now. Bye."

As he hit the off button, he heard Caroline say "but I was hoping" before she was cut off.

Abby was still glaring at him. "Caroline, I take it?"

He tucked his phone back in his pocket. "Yeah, sorry about that."

Abby took a sip of wine and didn't say anything, but it looked like she wanted to throw the glass at him with the way she was clenching it.

"I don't know why I answered it," said Connor. "Must be habit. It's not like I wanted to talk to her or anything, did I? I just didn't want to be rude to her."

"So you were rude to me?"

"What do you mean?"

Abby was about to answer when Claude showed up and deposited their appetizer in the middle of the table. It looked delicious but Connor couldn't quite figure out what was what. There were strips of some sort of dark meat next to strips of another kind of lighter meat and a sauce drizzled over both. It smelled like bacon but spicier. He wanted to dig in, but he needed to make things right with Abby first.

As Claude placed a small plate in front of each of them, Connor smoothed his napkin on his lap and tried to catch Abby's eyes. She ignored him and snapped open her own napkin.

"Abby," he began when Claude left, "I'm really sorry for—"

"It's fine, Connor," she said, pausing to take a deep breath. "Caroline's your girlfriend, and it's proper for you to answer calls from her, yeah? I don't know why it made me mad. I have no right to act that way, especially when you're taking me out like this."

She didn't look fine, though. She looked kind of sad, like all the fun had been sucked out of her spirit. Her whole body was deflated somehow.

Connor remembered his talk with Steven and how this dinner was supposed to be the best time to clear the air with Abby concerning his feelings for her.

"Abby, I just want you to know that I was looking forward to our dinner all week long. I barely gave Caroline a thought. Things aren't really working out between us, and maybe that's why she's calling me. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I . . . well, I . . ." He swallowed. It suddenly felt like a black hole had opened inside him, and the words couldn't make it out past the gravity.

"What?" asked Abby softly.

"I'm just really, really happy to be out with you," Connor forced out. "I want to make tonight special for you, and I hope I haven't ruined it."

Abby reached across the table, and took his hand. "You haven't, and it is special. Let's forget about her for the rest of the night, yeah?"

"Good idea."

She gave his hand a squeeze and suggested they try the appetizer before it got cold.

Connor sighed in relief while his heart just swelled with love for her. If the words couldn't make it out past the gravity well in his body, the feelings sure could. He watched her take a bite of the white meat, chew thoughtfully, and then nod in approval. She was so lovely. Even when she was eating what was most probably eel.

When she caught him staring at her, she gave him a quizzical look.

"I like you better than Caroline," he blurted.

"You do?"

He nodded, unable to say any more.

"Good." Abby grinned. "I like you better than Caroline too."

Connor laughed and helped himself to smoked eel and pork belly. This evening might turn out okay, after all, he thought. He just needed that black hole inside him to collapse and let him say what he needed to say before the night was over. Otherwise, he knew they were going to be nothing but best friends and flat mates once again, and nothing more.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I wanted to thank everyone for following along so far on this story and for all of the wonderful reviews. I decided I couldn't post any more chapters without it being done, so here are two chapters to conclude the tale.**

**Where we left off: Connor and Abby are in a restaurant on their "date," and they just ordered dinner.**

- - - x x x - - -

Abby drained the last of her wine and sighed in contentment. "Dinner was wonderful, Connor. I'm really glad we did this."

"Me too," said Connor. He gave her a quick grin and signaled for the waiter to bring their check.

As they waited, Connor played with a loose thread on his fingerless gloves. He looked deep in thought and even opened his mouth a couple of times as if he wanted to say something and kept changing his mind.

Abby avoided his eyes as she swirled the last drop of wine in her glass. The fact that dinner was over meant he probably wanted to talk about their relationship. He'd held her hand and she'd held it right back. It was very date-ish, and they'd done it several times, which meant it was no accident. Plus they'd almost kissed in the cab, and Abby hadn't exactly shied away from that either. She'd leaned into it, if she was honest with herself. She'd been extremely curious to see what it felt like to finally kiss Connor. And she still wanted to find out.

Would his lips be as soft as they looked? Would Connor be tentative and shy or passionate and aggressive? Would there be sparks between them or would it feel like she was kissing her brother? Would she end up breaking his heart? Or . . . Another thought popped into her mind. What if _she_ found the kiss amazing, but Connor didn't feel a spark, and he was the one who broke _her_ heart?

Abby's thoughts circled around like the wine in her glass. She stilled her hand. Maybe it was time to find the answer to the hypothesis she'd written in her observation log so many days ago. Just stand up, go around the table, grab Connor's face, and snog him silly.

Just as she convinced herself to do just that, the waiter arrived. Abby sank back in her chair and let out a deep breath. Reprieve.

"So," said Connor, pulling out his wallet and dropping a credit card in the folder. "What next? We could just go home or—"

"Let's do something else," said Abby before he could finish his sentence.

"Okay, cool." He looked as relieved as she felt. After pulling out a piece of paper from his inside breast pocket, he spread it out on the table. "I printed out all the things to do in the area. There's dancing, piano bars, pubs, an ice cream parlor, bowling, . . ."

"Bowling?" asked Abby with a laugh. "Seriously?"

"Just wanted to be thorough." He ducked his head and let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Last time I bowled I got a 32, so it might not be the best idea." He passed her the list. "What do you think?"

Abby zeroed in on a place she'd been to a few years ago that was a lot of fun. She pointed to it. "Let's go here. I haven't been dancing in ages."

Connor scrunched up his nose. "Really?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, it's just that I'm a worse dancer than a bowler. I might break your toes."

Abby laughed. "You won't break my toes, and it doesn't matter how good you are, just that we're having fun together, yeah? Plus, a little exercise will be good after our rich meal."

"Okay," he said doubtfully.

After paying the bill, Connor led Abby outside to a warm London evening. The sidewalks were full of excitement as people strolled along, enjoying their Saturday night out and about. Christmas tree lights sparkled on the maple tree. Pubs and nightclubs glowed with neon lights. Well-dressed groups lined up behind velvet ropes at the more popular places. The street hummed with conversations and snippets of music from behind closed doors. The air smelled like the city mixed with spices and delicious meats and the occasional whiff of perfume.

As they walked, Connor kept his hand on Abby's lower back, guiding her through the crowd. Abby liked the feel of him so close and almost slung her arm around his waist, but she was more conscious than ever of sending him the wrong signals, so she kept it by her side

"Abby," said Connor as they walked. He spoke right into her ear. "I've been meaning to tell you something tonight."

"Oh yeah?" She glanced at Connor. His face was serious, and he was giving her an intense look. It made her heart speed up with anticipation.

"Yeah, just a little something." He licked his lips and glanced around at the crowds. "No big deal really. You can ignore it if you want to."

"Well, what is it?" she asked, wondering what in the world had gotten into him.

He pulled her against the wall of a pub that wasn't too popular, so they had a section of sidewalk pretty much to themselves. He dropped his hand from her back and put a little distance between them.

"I," he began, walking a few steps away and coming back. "Well, I, just really wanted you to know . . . that I really like . . . well, I actually do more than like . . . In fact, I actually . . . l-l-love . . ."

Connor stopped and clenched his fists in front of him. "What I mean is that . . . Aaahh . . . why can't I talk when I want to?"

Abby couldn't stand watching him struggle for another moment. Plus, she wasn't sure she wanted to hear his words just yet, so she placed a finger on his mouth. "We have all evening," she reminded him. "Tell me when you're ready."

He nodded. With a relieved sigh, he sagged against the wall. "You're assuming I won't kill you when we're dancing, so we don't actually have all evening, do we?"

Abby snorted. "I'll survive. Now, let's go." She reached up to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned to glance at her as she did, which meant she kissed him on the lips instead.

Abby sank back on her heels and blinked up at Connor. He blinked down at her. One thing was certain, he did have soft lips.

"You just kissed me, didn't you?" he teased, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth into a dimple.

"It was accidental," blurted Abby. She wanted to kick herself as soon as the words came out. Connor's jaw tensed, and he gave her a curt nod.

"I didn't mean—" began Abby, but she wasn't sure what she meant. "Oh never mind. Let just go dancing and have some fun, yeah?"

Connor ran his hands through his hair. He took a deep breath and let it out before facing her again with a firm nod. "Fun. That's a brilliant idea."

But as they walked down the sidewalk to the club, Abby noticed with a pang that Connor kept his distance and didn't touch her the entire way.

- - - x x x - - -

Dance music pounded through Connor's whole body as he tried to follow Abby's moves. It thrummed into his skin, making it hard to think. Abby had no such trouble. She was able to bounce up and down while simultaneously twisting right and left. Her arms made little undulating motions as she snapped her fingers and bobbed her head. It was incredibly hot. Connor just swayed from foot to foot and bent his elbows a little. He wasn't even sure if he was doing it in time to the music.

A woman bumped drunkenly into him, making him stumble into Abby. She grabbed his arm and helped him straighten up.

"I told you I was dangerous," he said into her ear.

She smiled and kept dancing. "You're doing great, but you need to loosen up more. Swing your hips a little. Here" She placed her hands on his hips and pushed left and right. Connor tried to do what she was asking, but he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that her hands were on his hips. On. His. Hips.

"Sorry," he mumbled after the song ended.

"I've got an idea," she said as the next song began, just as loud and pounding as the previous one.

She turned around so her back was to him and reached for his hands. "Put your hands here and do what I do, okay?"

Connor's eyes grew wide, and he was glad her back was to him so she couldn't see his reaction as she placed his hands on her hips. He gulped as she scooted backwards against him.

"Now follow me," she commanded as she thrust her hips left, then right in time to the music, almost-but-not-quite brushing against him. He could smell her perfume and had a sudden urge to nuzzle her neck.

Connor felt like he'd been ordered to live out a fantasy by his fantasy woman, which was in itself a fantasy. He'd pinch himself if it didn't mean he'd have to stop touching Abby. Instead, he tried to do what she asked.

He found he could actually dance if this swaying thing was considered dancing. It was easier to follow someone else, and he wasn't so self-conscious without her watching him. As the song wore on, he loosened up and just flowed with the music, his hands on Abby's red silky dress, the two of them moving back and forth.

After a bit, she turned around, smiling. "See?" she shouted, craning her neck to be heard. "You just needed practice, didn't you?"

Connor got close to her ear, daring to keep holding her. "I don't know if I can do it on my own, though."

Abby gave him a cheeky smile. "Then don't." She threw her arms up in the air and gyrated in a new way as she faced him, staying super close, eyes closed, lost in the beat. Connor held onto her hips and watched her, trying to do his own thing and not caring how he looked.

When the song ended, they were both out of breath and glistening with sweat. "Drink?" asked Connor, pulling the material of his shirt away from his back.

Abby nodded and led him upstairs to a small section of railing they'd claimed as their own when they first entered the club. Connor's jacket was still slung over the top of it, reserving their space. As Abby fanned herself with her hand, he left to get drinks from the bar, a silly smile stretching across his face.

Dancing wasn't so bad, after all.


	14. Chapter 14

A couple of minutes after Connor left, Abby felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around with a smart remark on the tip of her tongue, only it wasn't Connor. A tall guy was smiling down at her. He was extremely handsome with high cheekbones, blue eyes, and perfectly even, white teeth. He wore a blue silk shirt that showed off broad shoulders and a triangle of blond chest hair.

"Hi," he said, flashing his teeth and pointing to the railing, "you're in my spot, I'm afraid."

"Oh?" Abby glanced at Connor's suit coat. "We didn't see anything when we got here."

He leaned close, reached across her, and picked up a glass filled with watery amber liquid. "Well, I did set my drink down, so . . ."

Abby winced. "Sorry, I didn't even notice it." She reached for Connor's coat. "We'll just get out of your way."

He placed a hand on her forearm. "No, no, that's not necessary. There's enough room for both of us."

Abby shrugged and moved to the side so he could lean against the railing next to her. Down below, on the dance floor, the music changed to a slow song, Dancers threw their arms around each other and held on tight as they swayed in circles.

"You can make it up to me, though," said the guy, leaning over to be heard above the music. His breath was warm on Abby's neck, and it smelled like whiskey.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, warily.

"Tell me your name." When he wagged his eyebrows at her, she had to laugh.

"It's Abby."

"Peter."

They shook hands.

"So, this guy you're with," he asked after they'd listened to the music for a bit. "Is he your boyfriend?"

She shook her head and then stopped, uncertain. "Not really," she said.

Peter threw back the rest of his drink. "He won't mind if I ask you to dance then, will he?"

Abby glanced around. She spotted Connor near the bar. The line was two deep all the way around, and it looked like Connor would have a long wait just to get the attention of a bartender. For a moment, she considered dancing with Peter. He was charming and good looking, exactly the type of guy she usually fancied, but she couldn't dance with another guy while things were so up in the air with Connor.

"Sorry," she said with a regretful shake of her head, "but he would mind."

Peter looked around. "Then where is he?"

"Getting me a drink," said Abby, pointing to him. "There."

Peter followed her arm. "The skinny guy in the white shirt and gloves?"

When she nodded, Peter made a face. "You can do a lot better, you know."

"Oh, and by 'better' you mean you?"

Peter shrugged and ran a finger across her arm. "Maybe."

Abby shrugged him off. "Cut it out."

"What?" he asked, pretending innocence.

She rolled her eyes and willed Connor to hurry up and get back with their drinks already.

"If you won't dance with me, how about I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"No, thanks."

Peter signaled to a passing barmaid who was busy dropping off a tray of drinks at a nearby table. When she approached with her tray tucked under her arm, Peter ordered another whiskey and then looked at Abby.

Abby shook her head. "I already have a drink coming."

"That'll take at least an hour," he protested. "You might as well get something now while you wait."

Abby craned her neck to see how Connor was doing. He'd barely moved.

"A white wine for the lady," she heard Peter tell the barmaid. Abby glared at him, irritated.

He shrugged and flashed his perfect teeth at her. "You don't have to drink it."

Abby knew where this was heading, so she gathered up Connor's coat and started to walk away.

Peter grabbed her upper arm. "Hey, don't be mad. I'm just trying to be friendly."

"A little too friendly, if you ask me," she said tartly.

Peter chuckled. "You're fiery, just like your dress. I like that."

When Abby rolled her eyes, Peter chuckled. "I know, it's a terrible line. But it's true. You look amazing in that dress. Really sexy."

Despite her best intentions, Abby felt her face flush at the compliment. Peter must've noticed because he backed her up against the railing before she realized what he was doing, and he rested his hands on either side of her.

"Let me go," she said, getting ready to duck under his arm.

"Not yet," he murmured. He grabbed Connor's coat and threw it over the railing next to him. Abby thrust her hands against his chest, but he just chuckled and wrapped them both in one of his big paws.

"Ow," she said, as her knuckles ground together.

"Sorry." He relaxed his grip slightly but still hung onto to her. "I just want you to see what you're missing before you go back to that skinny boy you're not on a date with."

"I already know what I'm missing," said Abby, trying to pull her hands away. "And it's not you."

Peter just chuckled. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

Abby jerked her head to the side and swore at him. She bent her knee and tried kicking him in the groin, but he must've anticipated her move because he twisted his hips to the side, and she ended up kneeing his thigh.

"Oi," said a wonderfully familiar voice. "What's going on here?"

Peter glanced over his shoulder at Connor. "Beat it, mate. A bit busy here."

Connor grabbed Peter's shoulder and spun him around. "I don't think so."

Peter stumbled but quickly found his balance. "Oh, it's the not-boyfriend," he said with a derisive laugh as he looked down at the shorter Connor. "Sorry, pal, just trying to show your not-girlfriend what a real man is like."

Abby couldn't stand it. "Connor's a million times the man you are, jerk." She scuttled away from the railing and out from under Peter's oppressive reach. When she reached Connor, she threw her arms around his waist. He held her tight with one arm while holding his other arm toward Peter in a defensive gesture.

"Looks like she chose mate," said Connor, backing them away from Peter. "And it wasn't you."

For a moment, Peter looked like he was going to take a swing at Connor, and maybe hit Abby too with the way she was molding against Connor. But then Peter took a deep breath, smoothed back his blond hair, and flashed them both a white smile.

"Fair enough," he said. "Can't help it if the lady has poor taste, can I?"

Abby opened her mouth to protest, but Connor gave her shoulder a squeeze, so she didn't say anything. After Peter left, Connor turned to her and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "You?"

"Fine."

Connor leaned forward and crushed his lips to hers. Abby froze in shock a moment before remembering to kiss him back. Their lips tangled, teeth clanked. Connor's hands caressed her face, wove through her hair, and wrapped around her back. Abby linked her arms around his neck and pulled him tight against her. They were finally kissing, and it was passionate and aggressive, gentle and tender.

This was nothing like kissing a brother, Abby noted in the back of her mind. There were definitely sparks, and she knew she would not be the one to break Connor's heart.

Hours or minutes or seconds passed. The world could've stopped rotating for all Abby cared. They broke away, came together to kiss a few more times, and finally pulled apart, breathing hard.

"Sorry," said Connor. His lips were swollen, his cheeks flushed. His eyes held a look of passion that Abby had never seen in her geeky flat mate. He kept stroking her hair as if he couldn't get enough of her. It was incredibly hot.

"Sorry?" asked Abby breathlessly. "What for?"

"For kissing you. We're just mates, aren't we?" He suddenly seemed to notice how they were still wrapped around each other, and his face took on a confused look that was incredibly adorable. "Aren't we?"

Abby laughed and threw her arms around Connor for a hug. He hugged her back and she felt him nuzzle the side of her neck.

"Oh Connor," she said, laughing. "You are so thick, sometimes, but I love you anyway."

Connor stopped moving. When he pulled away to look deep into her eyes, Abby realized what she'd said. She swallowed hard and waited for the certainty that she'd just made a mistake to wash over her. Only it never did. In fact, the opposite happened. The words felt right. Good. Perfect even.

"What did you say?" asked Connor, trying to hide a look of hope that had entered his eyes.

"You heard me," she said. "I love you, Connor."

Connor's eyes teared up, and he swallowed heavily. "Really?"

She nodded. "Really and truly. I think I've known for a long time but I've been afraid of admitting it. I didn't want to ruin our friendship by being wrong."

Connor dashed the tears from his cheeks, but more just streaked down the old tracks. "I've loved you forever, Abby. I told you on the cliff top, but I've been too afraid to say it again. Tonight was going to be the night, and here you beat me to it."

She pulled him to her for another hug as tears pricked the corners of her eyes too. Only she was too happy to cry and just grinned from ear to ear.

They left the nightclub soon after, and took a cab home to the flat. When they got upstairs, there was another moment of uncertainty as Connor went back to their old routine. He took off his coat and tie, and puttered around the kitchen, turning on the kettle and pulling out mugs, tea, cream, and sugar.

Abby watched him for a moment. Her sweet, geeky flat mate with the too-big shirts and thrift-store waistcoats had come a long way in the past few months. He was still the same geek, albeit more stylish, but he seemed more adult now, more of a man, someone she could see building a future with. Or maybe she was the one who'd come a long way, taking a chance on love instead of denying that it could even exist in someone she was already friends wtih.

Abby turned off the kettle and grabbed Connor's hand.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

She smiled and pulled him to the bedroom, laughing when Connor let out an embarrassed "oh" of surprise.

When she turned to face him, he ran his fingers across the top of her bodice. "You know, Abby," he said with a dimpled grin, "this dress doesn't fit you at all."

"It doesn't?"

"No, the top part is way too tight. And the bottom . . ." He pulled her flared skirt away from her body. ". . . is huge on you. What size do you wear, a small or medium? I bet this is an extra-large, at least."

Abby laughed. "I guess there's only one thing to do then, isn't there."

He peppered kisses down her neck and across her shoulders as he reached behind her to draw down the zipper of her dress. "Yeah," said Connor with a suddenly husky voice. "You'll just have to take it off."

And she did.


End file.
